A Simple Change of Fate
by WithoutHesitation
Summary: Pretty far off the beaten path... What if, during 'Snuck Up,' things had gone differently? What if Lydia stayed with Vincent? What if she and Beetlejuice were never more than friends? What if Fate changed its mind, and Lydia fell in love with a prince?
1. Small Changes

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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...I should have so much to say, after being gone this long. And I guess I do. Just wish I knew better how to say it. Okay, for starters, my precious 'original work' that drew me away... I haven't been able to write more than three pages in the past few months. Writing this stuff spoiled me for my own stuff. Couldn't explain why. Couldn't stop thinking of Beetlejuice, and what I wanted to write. So here, for an 'experiment,' is what I want to write next... Provided anyone wants to read it.

And when you're done reading, please go to my profile, and vote on whether you'll keep reading, even if you don't review. It won't take long, honest. And I think this is a good idea, even if I'm still a bit fuzzy where it's going. This does not mean I've abandoned my previous AU... 'Worth of a Soul.' I just, want to do this. Honestly, what do you think? If no one likes it, it might just stay a one-shot...

Oh, and um... Welcome back to me, right?

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Lydia pursed her lips at the slinky red and black thing, going over in her mind for the dozenth time whether it was really appropriate for a date with royalty. Officially, no less. On the other hand, nothing she had planned for that night might really be considered 'appropriate…' Particularly when such a relationship was pretty much forbidden by the families on both sides. Actually, it wasn't so much that her parents disapproved, as that they didn't know…

She struggled out of her school uniform, which had stayed in place much longer than usual, due to last minute finishing touches on her dress, and slipped the silky thing over her head. It wasn't that it was indecent or anything, it was almost floor length, with wide waves and subtle folds all around her legs, but above that, it did fit her with very little reason to doubt that she was no longer twelve years old. Black knee high stockings, and black slip-ons, almost completed the ensemble… But then, there was the neitherworld's chill to worry about.

With a sigh, Lydia slid open the hidden drawer in her desk, and drew out the shapeless spider web poncho, a gift from Beetlejuice many years before. Having a dress like this, and wearing something like that over it, seemed almost criminal… But she pulled it over her head anyway, smoothing it down her front, where it still fell quite a bit past her knees, and regarded her reflection in the mirror with sort of a curious twist to her lips. She didn't look bad. She didn't look bad at all. Even if her hair, as always, was a mess… But Vincent had never complained before, had he?

She turned back to her wardrobe, looking for a pair of gloves she'd picked up in the neitherworld. They were far more suited for keeping her hands warm than anything she could find around here, but she still hated wearing them. It made her feel cut off from things, not being able to touch them with her own skin. Like it wasn't really her. So she stood there, dangling them from her fingertips, turning over the choice in her mind…

"Hey babes, let me tell you, I've had a hell of a day!" Lydia paused in surprise, and turned, almost blushing as she realized how close she'd been to the poltergeist popping in on her while she was changing. "This broad I'm seeing is wearing me the fuck-" He paused at the hint of red to her cheeks. "What the hell's wrong with you?" He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Having dirty thoughts about your prince not-so-charming?"

"He's very charming." Lydia denied, with just a bit of a frown. She was not about to admit that he'd almost caught her in her underwear… "I just don't expect you to know it. And I don't have a lot of time to talk right now, it's Friday night, and I have a date." She cast him a little bit of a smirk in return, adding, "You do know what a date is, right? Or is your method of choice always bag 'em, bed 'em, and run?"

Beetlejuice cackled softly. "You say that like it's a bad thing, babes!" He noted, every tooth showing in a grin. "You oughta try it sometime… Maybe get that prince to crack a smile! Course, might have to wait a few years for that, I 'spose…"

A few years? She was pretty sure she was already the age, or even past the age, when he'd tried to marry her mother… The guy didn't notice shit. But then, maybe if he paid attention to things like holidays and birthdays, he'd know that her birthday was in just two short weeks… And then she'd be sixteen. And despite what their parents may want to think of them, most sixteen year olds were pretty far beyond the handholding stage…

Just not her. But _that_, was about to be fixed. She was getting a kiss from Vincent tonight, come hell or high water… Though it wasn't something she particularly planned to discuss before Beetlejuice. Those two were so weird with each other, it was like they were related! "Look, just save your lurid tales for when I get home," She advised him with a little laugh, making him grin, "I'll have plenty of time to think you're a pervert then. Right now I have to get ready."

"Shit babes, you really ought to listen more closely when I tell you this shit… I'm trying to give you tips!" He dusted his knuckles off on his dirty lapels, trying to look disinterested, before he started picking his nails with his teeth. "Royal ain't gonna wait forever for you to start putting out… Not when he can have his pick of any chick in the- What the hell was that for!"

Lydia, having just chucked something heavy at his head, she didn't stop to see what, now glared at the poltergeist like he was making it his personal mission in life to piss her off. "That isn't funny!" She whispered, feeling a cold twist in her gut at the very idea. She and Vincent had been together as long as her and Beetlejuice… She couldn't stand the idea of him just not being around anymore.

Beetlejuice hefted the book, which it turned out it was, in his hand, gave a little, amused grunt, and turned glinting eyes on her. He was kidding of course. Mostly. God knew someone like him wouldn't be waiting around for her… But Vincent was different. Right? "Look at it this way, babes… You got one thing on all those other broads who'd jump at the chance to snatch him off… You're still breathing."

"Urg!" Lydia grabbed something else and threw it at him, this time very aware that it was her favorite spider lamp. Beetlejuice of course, merely twitched his fingers, and caught this in midair, not even looking annoyed. He'd hit something of a nerve though, suggesting that the best she had to offer him was being _warm_… Largely because he wasn't the first to have suggested it. She didn't know which was worse, her being called a grave robber, or Vincent being called a biophiliac!

Either way, between the rumors, and the near on four years without a single kiss from her steady boyfriend, her nerves were beginning to wear a little thin. "He is not dating me just because I have a pulse." She muttered, turning back to her wardrobe, to stare defiantly within. Of course, she was trying to convince herself as much as him…

"Didn't say he was, babes." Beetlejuice frowned, twisting his fingers, and sending both book and lamp to settle back on her desk. "Just saying it gives you an edge. There's nothing like a good _warm_ lay, babes…"

This time, the sound she made wasn't really even comprehensible, but she settled for rolling her eyes, rather than throwing something at him that she might not get back. "You are such a rutting pig, Beej!" She hissed, secretly worrying all over again. Damn, why did he have to say things like that? He was getting more liberal in the things he said, it had to be admitted, whether he noticed she wasn't twelve anymore, or not. "Why do you have to put shit like that in my head, just before I go out?"

"Because I love fucking with you." He answered matter-of-factly, a slow grin cracking across his pale face. "Shit babes, you never used to be this easy! You getting soft on me, or something? Or maybe you're just getting soft on his royal lowness…"

Lydia's lips pressed into a thin line, as much as anything, so she wouldn't smile too. Now that he'd admitted to it of course, she wasn't nearly as annoyed with him… They did this kind of crap to each other all the time. "Why do you call him that?" She grumbled, a little amused, whether she wanted to be or not. "It's like you two have a personal grudge against each other, or something!"

"What makes you think we don't?" He demanded, matter-of-factly, his eyes suddenly just a trace darker. "You want a reason? Hell, how about this… He doesn't think I'm good enough for you, and I think you could do better drudging the gutters, than with him! At least you might find someone _interesting_…"

"So you're fighting over me." She noted dryly, finally putting the gloves back away. Better to go for the whole flesh on flesh thing, if being warm was one of her strengths… Mr. Perfectly Proper might not consider letting her seduce him, if she didn't have an edge. "How utterly chivalrous. Next you'll tell me you're only letting me date him, until I'm old enough to put out with you…"

"Gotta have something to do with your time." He smirked, lacing his hands behind his head, and crossing to her mattress, to fall with a solid '_whomp_,' across it. "Don't forget whose ring you're wearing, babes…"

"My mom's?" She prompted, casting a glance at him from the corner of her eyes. "I remember, thanks." Beetlejuice just made a noncommittal sound, lidding his eyes, and gazing at the unfinished summoning she'd scrawled on her canopy, many years before. "Like you're interested in me either way from shit, anyways…"

"Heh. Who knows, you might grow up to be a real looker, like your moms." This of course, just served to annoy her more than a little, since _she_ was at the height of her good looks, supposedly, and should be just at _least_ as hot as her mother… Just not in Beetlejuice's eyes, apparently.

"You're an ass," She informed him bluntly, turning towards the mirror, "And I'm leaving. Have fun recounting your lurid feats to the wallpaper."

"Bye, babes… Have fun blowing the little prince's mind…" She wondered briefly what _that_ was supposed to mean, then decided she was late already, and Beetlejuice and his cryptic comments could be figured out another time. He just grinned, watching her go…

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He wasn't the same boy who'd first asked her to dance all those years ago… Not physically. The prince of the neitherworld had grown, and grown well. Now appearing about twenty, even though he was just eighteen, he held a dignity and maturity that befitted his royal blood, but in addition to that… There was just something decidedly _sexy_ about the way he looked. And she never would have thought that would be a word to describe him.

Vincent was a good deal taller than her now, still as skinny as ever, but in a way that made no mistake of his strength. She could feel it every time he laid his hand over hers, every time he gave her a gentle squeeze… The boy had power, power she normally only associated with martial artists or dancers. Yet, she could say he was kind of _built _like a dancer, just thinner.

The green cast of his flesh had lightened with time, now he appeared simply a bit off color, and very pale. The color of his eyes meanwhile, had deepened a great deal. If before his eyes could be called black, now they seemed like doorways to the dead. Which was, she supposed, fitting.

Still he had an odd delicateness to his features, as well as a bit of exaggeration, like a sketch intended to bring out someone's qualities, in a way slightly larger than life. Slender of limb and waist, with hair that had grown long in the years they'd been together, possibly because she told him how much she liked it that way. Now it fell over his eyes when they were together, and when he didn't need to wear it up for appearance… Enhancing his brooding stare, and the serious set to his strong jaw. And always, always, he watched her with fascination…

It was a bad night to be late, but technically, despite what she'd said to Beetlejuice, she wasn't. When it came to official stuff, she always made sure she had a little extra time… Vincent looked fantastic as always, pressed and proper in rich navy blue, with violet overtones. His hair slicked smooth, and pulled back in a ponytail. And the crown he loathed to wear on everyday sort of dates together, sat neatly atop his head, while he regarded the room about them with a dreary stare. He didn't want to be there, and made no pains to hide it.

Lydia pressed a little closer to him, so that her hip brushed his, or rather his leg, as he was so much taller, and he cast a tolerant look down at her, his fingers wrapping with a sort of forced patience around hers. "It's almost over," She whispered, standing on her tippy toes for a moment, while he bent down solicitously to hear her, "After this, we can go get fried dough and cherry syrup, and gorge ourselves on sticky buns."

His lips curved in a delicate smile, just at the corners, reserved for her alone. "I cannot thank you enough for bearing through this with me, my Lydia," He whispered back, his fingertips touching just the edges of her ebony silken strands, "My parents were determined to pair me off properly tonight… I'm certain that they didn't expect you to actually attend by my side."

"If they'd ever bothered to meet me, they might have realized how pig-headed I am." She informed him with a smirk, her gaze traveling across the ball room, to where the royal heads of family were concealed behind a red hazy veil, peeking out from time to time disapprovingly. She took secret delight in defying them, well aware that as long as she had their son's favor, they couldn't do a damn thing to her. "Of course, it's easier for me to stand up to your parents, than mine…" She added, just a trace more softly. "But don't tell anyone I said that."

"Agreed." He murmured, straightening again, and weaving his arm a little more tightly through hers, laying his hand possessively against her elbow.

Approaching them now were a rather large couple, with rolls of what she only chose to believe were fat protruding from under their chins, rolling from their necks and forearms, and weighting down their chests about equally. She couldn't honestly tell which was which until the man spoke, his voice deep and rolling. "Well, this is your living girl, is it, Prince Vince?" He noted, staring at her coldly through his heavy monocle. "Pretty enough, I suppose. Certainly an interesting diversion from your royal duties."

"Lydia Deetz." She greeted him through gritted teeth, eyes flashing as she jutted out her hand with a grin… One that looked like it might belong a bit more on Beetlejuice, than the goth girl he hung around with. The man, if he could be called that, looked distinctly uncomfortable, and stared at her hand like it might bite him. "Pleasure to meet you." She pressed on, just like he wasn't staring at her like something he didn't want to catch. Hell, nothing was quite as much fun as fucking with these snobs' heads…

"I believe you are to take her hand." Vincent suggested helpfully, just a trace of his own frustrated malice showing through, though he didn't deign to smile. Then again, maybe he was just taking offense at the way his cousin, related through some tangle-work of family branches, was currently considering his longtime girlfriend. He could get very defensive about such things, Lydia knew…

"Ah, yes, of course your highness…" The ghost took her hand, almost between his thumb and forefinger, and brought it to his lips, in the most cursory brush of dead and unpleasant lips she'd ever been forced to suffer through. Said ghost then excused himself rather quickly, looking a bit ill.

Lydia brushed the back of her hand off on her poncho, her grimace giving way to something of an amused smirk. "If we make everyone do that, we might get out of here quicker." She noted in a soft aside, making Vincent's eyes, at least briefly, gleam with the darkness they held. "For your sake, of course." A pause, then, "Also for these ghouls' sakes, if they try to snatch you from me."

What sounded distinctly like a chuckle fell from Vincent's lips, which made every head there spin to take in the sight of the smiling prince. A view no one there seemed to either be comfortable with, or know how to respond to… "As if such creatures have a chance beside you, my Lydia." He murmured, giving her arm a little squeeze.

"Neitherworld press! Neitherworld press! Coming through!" A display of popping flashes and hurried moves pressed through the crowd, only to reveal a slimy looking fellow with large, limpid eyes, and no teeth, smiling up at them. "A picture of you and the breather, Prince Vince?" The shutterbug pleaded, already popping away with his flash. "Tell me kid, every time I see you, you're wearing that same red thing… You from a down and out living family, or something? Man, if that wouldn't make headlines…!"

"That's quite enough!" Vincent snapped coldly, reaching out, and snagging the camera from said reporter. It slicked his hand with ooze, as he tossed it over his shoulder, glancing around them with a displeased look. "Who let the press in here? Get him out at once! And her name," He added to the creature, as he was dragged away, "Is Lydia. I suggest you remember it."

Lydia moved closer to the prince's side, practically draping him possessively for a moment, while he responded by pulling her hard against them, and defying anyone, with his endless eyes, to say a word about it. The perfect picture for the poor shutterbug, if he still had his camera… "These things turn you into a completely different person," She noted, more pleased than she cared to admit, "And in this kind of company, I've got to say, it suits you."

"I have very little patience for these events, my Lydia…" He murmured, only to now have his attention drawn by a slender fellow all decked in curling maroon vestments. "And what is it now, chancellor? More demands from my parents, who steadfastly refuse my own requests to show themselves before my escort?"

The man flinched, just a little, torn over whether to be more afraid of the king and queen, or their currently very irritated son. "It is a ball, your highness," He simpered, showing every tooth in a way that would have been far more appealing, had he actually _had _every tooth… "It is expected for you to dance with the eligible young ladies!"

"It is expected for the eligible young ladies to dance with equally eligible young men, I would assume." Vincent denied, suddenly calm, in a way that made said chancellor more than a little uneasy. "As I have clearly brought an escort, it seems that my dances for the evening are spoken for. I believe you are unattached yourself… By all means, dance with as many as you please. I wish you nothing but the best."

For all that he was wishing him nothing but the best, the same tone and mannerism could have easily been used to tell someone to very kindly go to hell. It made Lydia shiver, just a little, to hear that in the prince's voice… Not that he had ever spoken to her that way. But being groomed for the throne was changing him, it could not be denied… And often, as it conflicted with his desire to be with her, not necessarily changing him for the more tolerant.

And yet the moment they were alone, his entire personality would reverse, and he would become quiet, soft spoken, and after all this time with her, still shy. Slow little smiles, indecisive and brooding, watching her with the fascination of any staring at the sky, longing for the stars. It was really sweet… And more than a little frustrating in its own way. He was far more hands on with her now for example, where people could see him, than he ever was when it was just the two of them, alone…

_I am going to get him to kiss me,_ she thought with a tacked-on look of patience, though in reality her thoughts had been screaming for release for the past hour and a half. _I am going to get him to kiss me, and god-damn-it, that boy is going to be the one to kiss me, not the other way around!_

"Dance with me?" Vincent suddenly pleaded, turning those eyes to her that she'd never seen cause to refuse. "Let me have something from this evening worthy of remembering…" Lydia grinned and nodded, making no pains to avoid his gaze, or bow and curtsy, as everyone else around him did. He just looked relieved, leading her out onto the dance floor…

Immediately the music changed, in mid song, to a rather dreary, wonderful sounding waltz, as he swept her into the moves she'd long since learned by heart. Still grinning, she met his eyes with a challenge, daring him to meet her gaze as an equal, before all these people who thought so poorly of them being together. Before all these people who would never meet his gaze, but look away. And of course, Vincent did, dark, somber, but somewhere in those depthless eyes, clearly pleased.

"I get to dance with you again when this is over." She whispered, just loud enough for her boyfriend to hear. "A slow dance, just you and me, any kind of music you want. No one to stare at us, me in your arms…" The softening in his eyes was as much as a promise, and she felt triumphant. The few times they'd slow danced, she'd always felt like he was just inches from kissing her…

And tonight, she wouldn't let those inches slip away. "I know this spot in the living world where we can be alone," She went on, even more softly, "In the trees not far from my parents' house." She made a gentle sound, adding, "It's not fair you only get to visit on Halloween, when I can visit the neitherworld whenever I want. I know no one will bother us there, but you can make it so just I can see you anyway, right?"

"Yes." He agreed softly, his thumb gently caressing the palm of her hand, surprising her as he brought her into a turn. "I think that would be a wonderful way to end the evening, my dear Lydia. Somewhere far away from all these prying eyes… Where I may have you to myself."

The prince's words, unbeknownst to him, made the little hairs on her arms prickle, and would have made her blush, if he hadn't offered such words many times before. He just meant for her company, and she knew it… He wouldn't try a damn thing, even though by this point, there was a lot she'd probably let him get away with.

"Your birthday," He prompted suddenly, his eyes changing a little in the flickering of torchlight, "It falls in less than two weeks, correct?" She nodded, wishing briefly that she could lean into his arms, then instead, focusing on the fact that he knew her birthday by heart, while others, such as certain best friends, had never even helped her celebrate it. "We shall have to make an occasion of it, then. Perhaps…"

And this was as far as he got, before his eyes narrowed, at the sight of someone approaching from where she couldn't see. "I suspect my parents have a new game…" He noted softly, something decidedly un-Vincent-like in his voice. "My Lydia, be certain, you have every right to refuse an interruption, though I may not."

Before she could really process this, a voice interrupted, as a tall, bronze skinned fellow slipped up beside them, clad in a rich orange and black suit, a smooth smile plastered on his face. "Prince Vince, if I may be so bold as to cut in?" He prompted, turning blazing red eyes, quite beautiful in their own way, to his dancing partner. "It certainly doesn't seem fair that you keep such a novel young woman to yourself."

Vincent, stiff as a board in her arms, slowly disentangled himself from her, and took a step back. "Only if the lady please." He allowed, sweeping his hand towards her, placing all the power to defy his parents, and their traditions, in her hands.

The other man smiled, and started towards her, even as she saw the chancellor moving in from behind with a blue skinned beauty… Lydia skirted his advances with ease, dropping her voice to a feign of shyness, and seeking Vincent's arm again, like she wanted to hide behind him. "I'm afraid I couldn't do that…" She demurred, acting the part of any shy noble as she avoided his gaze. "Prince Vincent is my escort, and I would find it unworthy to dance with another, after such gracious invitation from him."

She swore Vincent looked mildly amused, though she couldn't say how she could tell, since nothing in his face changed in the least. Still, he took her hand back over hers, drew her back to him, and noted as calmly as possible, "If this is the way it's done in the living world, we certainly don't wish to come across as disrespectful of her traditions." He said simply.

Then, without another word, he drew her back into a dance, the music shifting again to accommodate them, as he met her eyes with silent gratitude. She curled her mouth gently at him, as he whispered fervently, "Say you will dance with me the remainder of the evening… It will give me rest from this constant formality, and I _will _find a way to repay you."

"Hmm…" Lydia narrowed her eyes in mock-thoughtfulness. "I may find some way for you to do that…" She was only able to remain true to her role for about a breath though, before a soft giggle escaped her. "Vincent, if we get through the evening with nothing more excruciating than extended dancing, I call the night a win on our half."

Vincent nodded, sighing. His eyes glassed over a bit, as he gazed off at nothing at all, barely even aware of her, in his arms… While Lydia bided her time, well aware that soon, he'd have no interest in anything else. This was just part of dating royalty… And for Vincent, it was worth it.

But thank god they didn't have to do this every Friday…

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"Okay," Lydia groaned, more or less plopping beneath the low hung maple, a tired grin on her face, "Maybe no more dancing." She patted the spot beside her, and Vincent came over without hesitation, settling his fine expensive clothing on the dirty forest floor. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed… Hell, half the time she couldn't tell what he was feeling.

For now she slid her shoes off, rubbing her toes, and leaning into his shoulder a little. He went stiff at first, of course, as he always did when she tried to get close to him, then relaxed slowly, and even put his arm around her. It didn't take him as long as it once had. "I am sorry, Lydia," He murmured, playing his fingers absently through her loose hair, the most he usually allowed himself, "I had not thought the extended dancing would cause you pain. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Lydia lifted her head a little, considering him with a thoughtful look. He seemed so much more pensive now, not quite looking at her as he pulled the leather tie from his hair, letting it fall in careless black cascades over his face. Sort of a veil, to shield himself from the world… She laughed lightly, drawing up on her knees, and ran her fingers through it, intending to thoroughly muss it up. That meant he was hers after all… _Just_ hers.

He looked up at her with glinting eyes, so deep and filled with serious emotion, but didn't protest her familiarity, even if the solemn set to his mouth didn't change. And despite all this, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on, he seemed happy… Maybe it was just the way he held himself, like he didn't have the weight of the whole neitherworld on his shoulders. At least for a while.

"That's better!" She noted smugly, dropping back down, and placing her head securely in the curve of his shoulder. Her hand fell over his, _warm_, she thought to herself, and gave it a little squeeze. "You didn't even get a good look at my dress, you know." She mused, her voice muffled by the material of his sleeve, which her lips were currently pressed against. "I've always got to wear this damn poncho, or I'll end up freezing my ass off."

"I'm certain it was beautiful." Vincent assured her, slowly, slowly, relaxing against her. "But then, you always are." A pause, then softly, "Lydia, I cannot thank you enough for standing beside me tonight. It would have been, very difficult, without you. I know that you never agreed to this sort of-"

"Don't say it." She denied quietly, making him fall silent. "I've had a pretty good idea what I was getting into, for a while now. It's part of dating royalty, you know?" Her turn to pause, before she added, with a soft sound of contentment, "It's not so bad."

It was about at this point that she realized that Vincent was gazing down at her, a pained expression in his eyes. She frowned, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say. "I must admit, my Lydia… You are such a free spirit, and I have lived with the fear for some time now, that you will tire of the trappings that go with be courted by royalty. That one day you will simply look at me angrily, and tell me- To leave you alone."

"Hmm." Lydia's heart lurched, because a few days prior, she'd been thinking of doing just this. Only not angrily of course, guiltily. Wondering if what she had with the prince was worth fighting for. Wondering if he'd ever be bold enough to cross the distance between them… Or if there might be someone out there more suited for her. They were just so _different_…

But they had so many memories together, and whenever she reflected on them, almost every memory was a good one. She'd gotten used to his quiet manner, his thoughtful deliberation, and the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the world, when they were together. She remembered her mother saying something like that once, about her father… Telling her that if she ever found it, to never let it go. And for once, her mother's advice had swayed her decision.

"Vincent?" She murmured, a trace of hesitation to her own words, which galled her more than a little, "You like me, right?" Vincent only answer, at least for the moment, was a rather shocked expression, as if uncertain how she could ever question that. But she met those eyes of his, all brooding and puzzled, with a frown, and pressed back from him a little. "Not just because I'm alive, right?"

His face clouded, and his eyes grew heavy, as he considered her with a less than pleased expression. "Such words reach even you, my Lydia?" He asked softly. "Do you doubt me so?"

A chord of annoyance struck her. "Hey, if you're gonna talk about doubting, don't forget what you just said about worrying I'll get tired of you. It's pretty much the same thing, you know?" Slowly his gaze cleared, and he nodded, even looking a trace guilty. "I mean, I've tried to ignore it for a long time," Her tone was maybe just a little gentler now, "But people keep saying it… So," She met his gaze again, "You like me, right?"

For a long moment, he just considered her, as serious as she'd ever seen the moody prince. Then softly, sliding his fingertips along the curve of her throat, in a daring way for him, he murmured something far more so. "Lydia… I love you."

His words made sparks of surprise and electricity tingle along the skin under her poncho, and she just stared at him for a minute, wondering in a momentary panic if she was supposed to say it back. She didn't know if she could… She loved being with him, she loved his eyes, and the way he rarely smiled for any but her… She loved just about every minute they spent together! But did she love _him_?

At her extended silence, he seemed to accept that she didn't know how to answer, and sighed, drawing his hand back away. "But of course, I expect no such words from you, my Lydia. Not so quickly. But I have known myself… for a very long time."

She turned this over in her mind, shaking her head, which stubbornly refused to make her confusion any clearer. She hadn't been expecting that… She should have been, but she wasn't. It should have been obvious for a long time that he loved her… Maybe she just didn't want to notice. Because she _wasn't_ ready to say it back.

But if there was one thing Lydia hated, it was being all indecisive, and soft footing around an issue. Better to avoid it altogether. She squirmed from his grasp suddenly, pushing herself to her feet, and looked down at the heir-prince with a decided challenge to her gaze. "Forget sore feet," She informed him matter-of-factly, "You owe me a dance." Since she hadn't quite relinquished his arm as she stood, pulling him up with her was no difficult task…

He offered no objection, even if he paused in puzzlement for a moment as she drew away again, struggling with the heavy poncho, before throwing it aside. She was amused by the faint trace of a blush that appeared on his sharp cheekbones, like he'd just expected her to continue stripping… Or maybe just in response to the full-on view of the dress she'd been wearing all night, which was surely not typical for a formal ball.

Sleeveless, strapless, form-fitting, and low cut, she gave an elegant sweep of her arm, grabbing up a handful of cloth from the sweeping skirt, and gave the most elegant bow she knew how to, grinning at him all the while almost savagely. "Like what you see, Prince?" She challenged him, while he just stared at her with wide eyes, his jaw slightly slack, and didn't even correct her over using the formal title. "Come on, dance with me."

"But," He still seemed unlikely to emerge from his eye-bulging trance, as his mouth formed words regardless, "There is no music, Miss Lydia. What shall we dance to?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." She moved towards him, making the bashful prince take a step back, blushing still more. A flare of panic gripped her heart… What if this was too much for him? What if she just ended up pushing him away? "Vincent," Her voice dropped to just above a whisper, no more game to her words, "Are you afraid of me?"

The prince swallowed, heavily, then with a whisper himself, confessed softly, "Yes, my Lydia. I don't know how I could be approached by someone so beautiful, so unafraid herself, and not find myself afraid of her. Lydia… You must know that I've never, seen a woman, quite so undaunted to reveal herself to me?"

Lydia took a deep breath, cast a glance towards her poncho, then looked at him again. "Do you want me to put it back on?" She murmured, trying not to reveal her disappointment. This wasn't the way he was supposed to react at all… But she supposed she couldn't expect him to just fly out of his usual reserve just for the sake of a little flesh. Vincent was no Beetlejuice, after all… If he was, this little showdown would have never become an issue.

When he didn't answer, she shook her head, and started to reclaim the heavy bit of cloth, intending to cover herself once more. She almost jumped out of her skin when Vincent caught her from behind, sliding his arm smoothly about her waist, and whispering, less than an inch from her ear… "Not yet. Please."

It was, without a doubt, the boldest he'd ever been with her, and she found her heart racing a mile a minute, rushing blood to her cheeks, as she was the one to freeze at his touch now, completely caught off guard. "Okay," She murmured, not sure what else to say, "Wasn't expecting that…"

And that was of course, by whatever laws of the universe that decided such things, exactly the wrong thing to say, and Vincent's arm drew back again, hastily. "I- I apologize, Miss Lydia, I never should have…"

Damn custom. Damn letting the boy make the first move. What he'd just done was close enough. She turned into his embrace before he could pull completely away, meeting his eyes, her own dark and pleading enough to make him stop in mid retreat. "Vincent, I've waited long enough. If you don't kiss me right now, I'm never going to forgive you." It was maybe a dumb thing to say. But at the moment, it felt unbearably true.

The prince stared at her, dumbfounded. "But, it isn't proper, without- That is, we shouldn't…" Still she wouldn't let him look away, sliding her own arms up and around his back now, rising to her tippy toes, lips curved in a small, gently tender smile. "Lydia…" He pleaded at last, "I have no wish to take advantage of your trust in me…"

"I've waited for you to kiss me since I was twelve years old," She informed him softly, but with a voice like steel, "You are _not_ taking advantage of my trust. Now please Vincent… You're not going to make me ask again, are you?"

Something in those deep dark eyes, shattered, and gave way, to a look softer than anything she'd seen there before. "No," He agreed softly, as if he were shamed she even had to say this, "I won't make you ask again."

This said though, neither of them really seemed certain how to proceed. At last Vincent slid his hand behind her neck, hesitantly, and with the tip of his thumb against her chin, leaned in to kiss her. Lydia, aware that people usually tipped their heads when they kissed, did just this, and closed her eyes, waiting for the brush of his lips against her own.

It was feather-soft, tentative, his first caress against her mouth, but it was… electric. Sparks could have spun from her fingertips… It took her breath away. Just a moment, so briefly, he kissed her, then drew back away, as if this was simply all he dared. She opened her eyes slowly, considering him. She thought the boy prince had never looked so flustered, in the entire time she'd known him. His face unnaturally pale, his lips quivering… Another man might have been breathing hard. Vincent on the other hand, wasn't breathing at all.

Before she could feel awkward, and wonder if she'd done something wrong, he closed the distance between them again, grasping her by both arms this time, in firm hands, as his mouth sought hers. Made brave, by the brief kiss, and whatever he'd felt from it. Firm lips against hers now, sweetly demanding as they moved against her, while his embrace drew her back into him, and somewhere she wasn't quite sure of, she swore she saw little flares of white light go off behind her eyes.

He was strong, she realized suddenly, not just his body, but his magic. Strong enough for it to flow through her unchecked at the bold kiss, making her skin dance, and her hair stand on end. Her eyes grew wide at first, then fluttered closed, as he kissed her again, again, never daring so far as to claim the inside of her mouth. Rather, just seeking the warmth of her lips again, again, again…

Her breath hissed out between her lips, as he finally drew away a little, looking shaken, as if he didn't quite know himself what he'd just done. His face, which had been paler than usual only a moment before, suddenly grew a deeper shade of green instead, a blush, as he saw Lydia staring at him, dumbfounded by the force of his kiss. "M- Miss Lydia, I a- apologize… I'm not certain…"

"Wow." She interrupted softly, rocking back on her heels a little, to take in him more fully. "I never would have guessed you had that kind of power. It was… strange." His face plummeted, and he looked crushed. Belatedly, Lydia realized what that must have sounded like, and tried to think of something else to say. At the moment though, all she could think of was one thing… "Um, can we do that again?"

"Wh- what?" He responded intelligently, only for her to claim the distance between them this time, hooking her hand around his shoulder, to pull him down to an appropriate level to claim his mouth. He was tense against her for only an instant before he surrendered to her will, and his hands sought her back… But she wanted something different this time, and gently her mouth opened, to flick just the tip of her tongue against his top lip.

Clearly he wasn't sure how to respond, so she let him take his time… She _was _content with this, the way his energy made her blood sing, and every fiber of her body dance with tingling energy… She just wanted to be, _closer_.

He gradually seemed to get the idea, seeking the warmth of her mouth tenderly, while his fingers traced patterns of longing across the bare flesh of her arms. She found herself smiling, even giggling, as he seemed to find his 'rhythm,' and kiss her with an instinctive expertise, which quickly took her breath away, from surprise as well as laughter.

"Damn!" She snickered at last, breaking the kiss. For once, he didn't look hesitant or troubled, he seemed to know she was pleased, as her dancing eyes met his. "So much for that excuse!"

"What excuse, my Lydia?" He asked softly, something in his tone just a trace more possessive than it had been before. As if now, she _was_ his, and there could simply be no more question… "What excuse could either of us need?"

Lydia smirked at him, reaching up to tousle his hair, before drawing away, and stretching languidly, his energy still racing through her blood. "I figured maybe the reason you never kissed me, was because you weren't any good at it." She teased, far more back in her element, with this hurdle finally crossed. "Turns out, you just like making me wait!"

He fell silent for a moment, looking thoughtful, serious. "I am sorry, my Lydia… I am not accustomed, even after all this time, to being allowed such boldness in courting. I am, grateful, you are far bolder than myself, or I don't know what I'd do." He reached out to her then, tracing a line lightly along the top of her head, until he parted the hair over her eye with one finger, all ever so delicately. "I am sorry I made you wait… But what you said about my power," His brow tucked just a little, in concern, "I did not hurt you?"

"No way." She denied quietly, already looking at his slender mouth again, which at her words, and lingering interest, softened just a little, in an 'almost-smile.' "But I guess you probably didn't mean for me to feel it like that either. Heh, look at it this way. Not everyone actually sees fireworks, the first time they kiss."

"Hmm." He still seemed thoughtful, not quite brooding, but as if something concerned him. "That _was _my first kiss, Lydia."

"Mine too." She answered easily, turning with a little sweep of her skirts, and leaning back into his arms, before he could protest. As usual, it seemed to catch him off guard, but this time, it didn't take as long as it usually did, for him to embrace the idea… and her. "Not bad for a first try."

A pause, then quietly, "My Lydia… Am I allowed to kiss you again? Beyond this night?"

She turned this thought over in her mind, giving it the serious consideration he seemed to think it deserved, but all the while, it was all she could do not to laugh. "Anytime you like." She murmured at last, tipping her head up enough to meet his gaze, "And it doesn't even have to be on the lips. You can kiss me on the neck too, if I can do the same."

"A- agreed." This said, he dropped a very light kiss to her throat, and then, gently, sighed against the soft skin there. "Lydia… Thank you."

They stood this way for a long moment, him soaking in her heat, reveling in her softness, her soaking in his delicious chill, and the waves of energy that still seemed to roll off him so enticingly. But she knew it couldn't last forever, and at last, quietly, said the words she really didn't want to say. "I have to go home, Vincent. Before I get in trouble."

"Or you won't be allowed to see me again." He finished quietly, only reluctantly surrendering his hold on her. "I understand… But please understand my position, dear Lydia." His voice dropped, just a little, becoming almost like a caress. "That I look forward to the night you will come back with me, to a castle we may call our own, and I will not have to let you go again."

It was of course, right up there with all the other little declarations of love he'd made across the years, from very nearly the first time they'd met. He never changed his song, it was true… But it was one which, for the first time, she found herself entertaining as well, rather than simply humoring. Be a princess, an actual princess, in an actual castle, in the world of the dead? It was so unreal… But Vincent, his light grasp still lingering on her wrist, was _very_ real…

"Vincent… Goodnight." There was so much more to say, but anything she said now, she couldn't take back. Therefore, she couldn't say it. Not yet. She didn't even kiss him again, simply drawing away from his grasp, and heading back through the narrow strip of trees that stood between her and home, poncho and shoes in one hand. But what she really wanted to ask him of course, rang in her head silently, regardless.

_Until I'm ready to say it too… Vincent, how long will you wait for me?_

_--------------------------------_


	2. Same Old, Same Old, Right?

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Guhhh... :blinks: Wanted this up today. This morning. Got it up. First thing I've written in two months, longer than a discarded page. (The previous was something I had laying around a while.) In the name of _mercy_, it feels good to write again... But I feel so out of practice.

Again, if you read this, please vote on the poll on my profile. Only five people have so far, and while I'm grateful this has received a good reception, I'd like a better idea of what people are thinking. It'll only take a minute.

Oh, and if you wanna review... :clings: Thank You!

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"'The hell, babes…" A low voice muttered, gaining in impatience, as, as many times before, a heavy weight dropped on the bed beside her, in an effort to rouse her from her dreams. Beetlejuice then pounded the mattress with his palms, not two feet from her, in a tactic he'd used before. "How long you gonna make me fucking wait? You're pissing me off here…!"

Too used to the poltergeist's antics by now, Lydia couldn't even summon enough outrage to pull herself completely from sleep, just lifting an arm without opening her eyes, placing her splayed palm against her best friend's face, and giving it a half-hearted push. "I'z Saturday…" She muttered, turning her face into her pillow, so that her next words were muffled. "Go 'way…"

Momentarily dumbfounded by his failure to scare her into waking, he was put off his game only a moment before he was ready to try again. "Don't make me put beetles in your briefs." He muttered, eyeing her warningly. It was a bluff of course… He could think up something much better than that for the girl.

When she still didn't stir, a low chuckle escaped him. "Suit yourself, babes…" He murmured dangerously, his voice fading even as he offered the threat, a little sneer twisting his lips briefly before he vanished from sight. _This_ woke Lydia up, albeit unwillingly, if only because Beetlejuice was at his most dangerous when he was bored, and if she couldn't see what he was doing… Well, he _could _be doing anything.

Wiping the back of her hand across her eyes, Lydia forced herself to sit up, gazing around the room warily, still tired, and in no mood for the dead man's games. Not that that had ever stopped him, since not much ever did… And it didn't help that they both knew she couldn't stay mad at him for more than a minute.

"Where are you?" She searched the room slowly, usually able to detect him no matter how well he hid, but for once, came up with nothing. But she could feel him all around her… She swung her legs over the side of the bed, intending to find him… And gave a little squeal of surprise as a thick fingered hand jutted out from under the bed, snagging her firmly by the ankle, and wrenching her down!

…Only to be caught neatly by Beetlejuice before she plowed into the floor! And right before she could scream, his hand clamped over her mouth to silence her, leaving her flushed, angry, and hard pressed not to laugh, staring up at his self-satisfied grin. "Awake now, Lyds?"

"-The hell?" She muttered, brushing his hand away, and trying to look more annoyed than she was as she let her racing heart slow. Already she debated how she was going to pay him back for that cheap little trick. "You know that wouldn't have worked if I wasn't half asleep, you asshole!" She added, starting to pull from his grasp, only to have the poltergeist refuse to let go. "Beej, cut it out…!"

Beetlejuice, snickering, shot to his feet before she could protest more, still holding the petite goth girl in his arms like she weighed nothing, before dropping her unceremoniously on the bed. "Serves you right." He informed her, his grin quickly turning to a sulk as he eyed her with what was most likely feigned disappointment. "I blow off my latest lay for the night to come see your ass, and you're too busy with Prince Rain-In-Your-Ear, to do shit with yours truly? Thought we were supposed to be buds…" He gave her a good frown, waggling his finger at her. "You, owe me."

Lydia started to open her mouth to deny this, before quickly realizing the futility of arguing any type of logic with Beetlejuice… If only because any argument he used would be nothing resembling anything remotely logical to begin with. Any other time, Lydia would have known well enough to hedge a little, just enough to get more of an idea of just what the poltergeist had in mind as 'payment-' She wasn't new at this game after all- But still riding a pleasant little haze from the night before, she didn't see why her fun should stop now. She felt like she was up for _anything_ the poltergeist threw at her today!

So she just shrugged, and smirked, shooting him her best 'devil may care' look… Which could challenge his at the worst of times. "Right, Beej." She agreed, pushing his hand away again, and getting to her feet, much more awake now than she'd been only moments before. "I owe you. Whatever. So what do I gotta do to pay this little debt, hmm?"

Beetlejuice, clearly all ready to argue the point until he won, seemed briefly surprised, and just stared at her for a moment looking taken aback, like he hadn't expected her to agree so easily. "Well, hell babes," He muttered at last, sounding slighted, "I worked up a whole list of reasons of _why_ you should listen to me… Don't you even wanna fucking hear them?"

Always ready to enjoy setting the poltergeist off his step, Lydia just grinned, and pushed herself to her feet. "Your excuses work pretty much for any occasion, Beej." She pointed out easily, shooting him a tolerant look. "Save it for next time. Right now I'm up for pretty much anything you can throw at me."

The poltergeist's eyebrows flew up, and he considered her for a moment before a devilish glint appeared in his eyes, as his mouth opened for some sleazy retort... "Well, _hell_ babes…" He settled on finally, "I was just gonna drag you to the Freaky Food Court for the International Grub-Out they're throwing today! But if you were a little older, I sure as _hell _could think of…"

Lydia's watched him warily, waiting for him to cross that line he'd yet to cross… But here he stopped, as if realizing himself what he'd been about to propose. Then his mouth twisted, and he grunted, running his thick fingers through his wiry blonde hair, clearly a bit annoyed. "Heh. You listen to me there? Ain't used to hanging out with an underage broad yet, I guess." He started to say something else, maybe about what he would do when she was 'old enough,' only to pause again, and cast her an appraising look. "Shit, when are you gonna start growing, anyways? You been the same size since I met your ass!"

Lydia felt a sweeping sense of relief, and somehow annoyance, in the same breath, and scowled at him. "Rub it in, why don't you?" She muttered. Yes, she was short. She knew that. Barely an inch over five feet. And while she wasn't sure how she felt about this fact, Beetlejuice, observant guy that he was, probably didn't even realize she wasn't still twelve.

But being treated like a preteen aside, not that it had ever curbed his tongue anyway, she sure as _hell _wasn't going to be the one to tell him otherwise. He was hard enough to deal with now, just chasing after every _other _bit of female flesh he could get his hands on, offering raunchy retorts and sleazy comments… Not that she didn't like that about him.

But the guy really wasn't choosy. And the day he noticed that _she _wasn't a kid anymore, would probably be the day her happy little world jumped to its feet in surprise, blinked, and fell flat on its ass. _Guess I'll just put it off forever then,_ she mused wryly, heading to her mirror, as if to deny to herself that she really did still look that young. _That shouldn't be a problem, or anything…_

Best to change the subject. She didn't know how she was going to deal with that day when it came… And for the moment she'd just as soon pretend it never would. "Grub-Out, huh?" She asked aloud, narrowing her eyes at her reflection, and reaching for her eyeliner, as much as anything to distract herself. "With real grubs? Or will there actually be something for me to eat, too?"

Beetlejuice snorted, and cast her a reproachful look, obviously unimpressed by her griping. "Babes, the way you been tagging along on my coattails all these years?" He pointed out, kicking back in midair, and watching as she began to apply the usual semi-sweep of dark shadows around her eyes. "You should have _been_ eating neitherworld grub by now. Grubs too." He added, with an attempt at annoyance, "'Spected better of you than to be some stuck up breather, too good for perfectly good dead eats!"

Lydia paused, eyeliner still in hand, and turned away from the mirror, giving the ghost a long, oddly haunting look. She always did manage to pull off creepy like it was something good… Then she spoiled the effect by giving him a smirk, as she twisted her careless black hair away from her eyes. "I have eaten eye-scream," She pointed out slowly, in a sort of methodically listing way, "Drank spyder-cyder, and even ate dread pudding on a dare- that last actually wasn't as bad as it sounded- but there is no way in _hell _I'm eating something slippery, moving, and _alive_."

At her emphatic refusal, the poltergeist just grinned. Sometimes the girl made it too easy to get under her skin… Of course the truth was, he could never tell when she was actually doing it unwittingly, or just going along with the game for his benefit. And the truth was too, he didn't really care. He drifted over beside her, and managed, as serious as shit, to assure her, "The being alive… it's what gives 'em their flavor, babes."

Lydia gave a short laugh, and leaned on her dresser, looking at the nothing behind her in her reflection, amused. "So the truth comes out, huh Beej? This ghost shit was all nonsense. You're _really _all night of the living dead…"

His eyebrows flying up, Beetlejuice pursed his lips briefly, before the expression became an unrepentant leer. "Well hell babes, you know me! I'd do just about anything for a piece of living world flesh…"

Despite herself, Lydia conceded that this was probably true. "No kidding…" She smirked, picking up her brush, and pretending to ignore him, while she debated on just how good she had to try to make herself look, just to hang out with Beetlejuice at the Freaky Food Court. In truth, she was already looking forward to their day together. Beetlejuice was a lot of things, dirty, lecherous, thieving- by and large just trouble, really- But one thing he never was, was boring. "I'm sure there's a lot you'd do for a piece of unliving flesh, too…"

The poltergeist, in response, just considered her with a smug little look, stretched, and cackled under his breath. "Which brings me," He prompted, as if she'd actually been the one to bring this up, "To my next question!" Lydia felt a little seed of dread take root in her belly, but refused to show it… Beetlejuice was using that tone again. The one he used when he was changing the subject to something he knew damn well she was trying to avoid. "How _did _the formal ball with his royal lowness go?"

"'Cause I know damn well babes," He added before she could answer, shooting her the sort of suggestive look he usually reserved for his own lurid tales, "You did _not_ come straight home." He sat forward a little, rubbing his hands together, and looked, more than anything, satisfied with himself, for reasons she wasn't sure she wanted to know. "Tell me the truth babes, I'm rubbing off on you, right?"

So much for that… Lydia started to offer a snide reply, only to, unexpectedly, have her tongue catch in her throat, and her face flush with color, before she could even try to deny that she'd been 'up to something.' "Yeah. Whatever, Beej. Not yet, anyway." She muttered under her breath, grabbing for a brush again, and yanking it furiously through her hair, pointedly turned away from the poltergeist. What was her deal though, it was just a _kiss_. It wasn't like she'd… _um…_

Behind her, Beetlejuice chuckled, and she was left looking uselessly into a mirror that couldn't tell her what was going on behind her, as the poltergeist drifted closer, until, though she was looking at her reflection alone in front of her, his grimy fingers closed on her shoulders from behind. "Can't bullshit a bull-shitter, babes…" He murmured, a breath from her ear. So close that she could smell all those weird, familiar, _old_ smells of his. "Come on Lyds, I swear, I won't tell a soul…"

"It's the ones without souls that I'm worried about." She heard herself sighing, before she could stop the words in time. Then, figuring she'd already dug her own grave anyway with that statement, she turned to say more, and paused, disconcerted to find herself pretty much face to face with the ghost with the most.

Beetlejuice blinked, surprised himself, considered her in amusement, then cackled softly. The kid was cute when she couldn't put two thoughts together. Romantic shit did that to breathers though… Without thinking what he was doing himself, he reached up, tousling her hair like she was still up to his knees, green eyes gleaming fiendishly at her from like two inches away, before laughing aloud, and backing up, giving the girl room to breathe.

Looking disconcerted, maybe even blushing a little, Lydia waved her hand at him in an absent, dismissive way. "You know what I mean," She pressed on, just like he hadn't finally managed to shake the girl in her skin a little, "The tabloids are already eating this shit up. And I'm sure they'd pay big bucks for the latest gossip on me and him, right?" She shot him an accusing look. "How much would it take to buy a broken silence, Beej?"

Now it was his turn to feel a rush of uneasiness, why he didn't know himself, and look annoyed. "What, you think I'd sell you out?" He grunted, actually mildly offended, which was pretty hard to accomplish where the otherwise lowlife ghost was concerned. It surprised him a little though, even as he denied it, to realize he really wouldn't. "Told you a long time ago, babes… You and me, we're buds. Screw the rest of the neitherworld, _and_…" He added, stressing this last bit just a little, "That includes reporters, sleazy dealers, _and _his royal whine-ness!"

Lydia made a sound of mingled tolerance and exasperation. She seemed to believe him, which was a little surprising in itself, but it didn't seem like enough to satisfy her. "Him harping on you, you harping on him… What is it with you two?" She gave her hairbrush a half-hearted fling onto her dresser, before propping her chin in her hand, and pointedly looking at the place in the mirror where she should be able to meet his eyes, but couldn't. "Fine. He kissed me. You happy now?"

He started to answer snidely, his intention all along to needle at her for this 'landmark occasion,' his wording even planned out… When at her confession, words failed him. Maybe he didn't believe the little royal knee-biter would actually ball up like that, but since he had, actually, suddenly, the ghost with the most was anything but happy at the little confession.

In fact, a stab of irritation rose from somewhere in his gut, catching the poltergeist completely by surprise, and leaving him without a decent thing to say. "Huh." Was all he offered, a little hollowly, as he did what she couldn't, and studied the depths of her eyes in the mirror.

He tried to recover from his brief annoyance quickly, not sure himself what caused it, and flashed a nasty grin at nothing in particular, as he added, "That all, babes? Big deal. You be sure to come back and tell me when he makes you _really_ squeal…"

Lydia opened her mouth to protest… Before pausing, looking thoughtful, and murmuring only, "Hmm."

The poltergeist cast her a sideways looks, wondering what she was up to. It wasn't like her not to have a ready comeback to his wiseass remarks. The only reason why she wouldn't be, occurred to him just a moment later, and suddenly, for all his jokes, the ghost was uneasy. "Hey, you know I'm just kidding, babes…" He growled, a little protectively. "Don't tell me you're starting to take my shit seriously now… You're still too young for that crap!"

"You have no idea how old I am." Lydia dismissed, as if annoyed about something herself, hell only knew what, and abruptly seemed to have enough of both this conversation, and him, turning towards her wardrobe, and effectively ignoring both. "You want me to go to the Freaky Food Shop with you, that's fine. Just get the hell out so I can get dressed."

Left uneasy, and not sure himself why, or why Lyds was mad at him, Beetlejuice muttered a handful of obscenities under his breath, and left the girl there. While the day had started out just fine, in his opinion, it seemed to him like the girl was suddenly acting all weird, just… Not like his Lyds.

Ah, but it was probably all in his head. Or hers. The girl had gotten herself kissed after all, probably figured that made her grown, or something. He snickered to himself as he propped his weight against the large oak out back, appeased, waiting for her to dress. Yeah right, when that girl did grow up, it wasn't like he wasn't going to be the first to know…

He was the ghost with the most, after all… He didn't miss a trick.

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The Freaky Food Court was decked out to the gills for the big grub-out, with flags from all across the neitherworld, strange gimmicky little doo-dads, and great big full size statues made of foam, paper mache, or in some cases, what might have been food. And since this was the neitherworld of course, everything carried a certain charm of the macabre, and an unmistakable trace of just plain creepy.

Which was awesome. Lydia loved looking around at everything, running from table to table like she was still ten years old, peering at bowls of wriggling, writhing masses that made even her feel sick, and boldly poking at heaving masses of grey or vomit green that jiggled the way gelatin always claimed to. She'd yet to see anything she wanted to eat, but it definitely all _looked_ majorly cool.

Beetlejuice meanwhile, had his fingers literally _in_ everything, licking them off sloppily between tastes, and leaving her even more reluctant to actually try anything. Especially after he did.

She elbowed him in the ribs, making him pause as he was wrist deep in something brown, meaty looking, and curdled. "What?" He grunted, pulling out a round glob of something, and licking it clean while she stared, fascinated by just how truly disgusting the poltergeist could be. More fascinated when it looked like an engorged bloodshot eyeball, after he'd 'cleaned' it.

"Wow." Was all she had to say to that, impressed against her will, and making the ghost with the most cackle nastily.

"You should be used to this shit by now, babes…" He informed her in an offhand way, his jagged teeth snagging into the flesh of the thing, making it pop like an oversized grape, before his arm plunged back into the mystery goop. "Man, I couldn't tell you what this is Lyds, but it sure as hell tastes good!"

Lydia felt a brief swell of nausea as she realized he wasn't kidding… Nothing it seemed, was off limits when it came to Beetlejuice's menu. "Okay, you just made this a hell of a lot grosser, Beej." She informed him, unable to resist a smile.

"Glad I could help, kiddo!" He chuckled, grabbing a plate of small, wrinkled, off white things, and shoving it in her face. "Come on, try one of these… I swear, you'll scream!"

"I'll scream…" She echoed, eyeing the simple, inoffensive looking 'treats' like they might bite her. "There's so many reasons why that's likely, Beej… Why the hell would I try one?"

Beetlejuice chuckled under his breath, wafting the plate beneath her nose. "'Cause curiosity killed the cat, babes? You and I been this path before… I steered you wrong yet?" She eyed the little pastries, this seemed to be what they were, distrustfully. "Come on, babes… It's just a little scream puff! Try it! I swear you'll like it!"

It… actually smelled good. Warm, sweet, just a little buttery. Despite herself, Lydia knew she was going to give in. "You are such a…" She muttered half-heartedly, deftly lifting one of the little, soft, sticky treats, between thumb and forefinger. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why they're called scream puffs _before_ I try one…?"

Her best friend just chuckled nastily. "Not a chance in hell, babes." He denied matter-of-factly. "Go on, take a nibble, a nip… You'll love it. I promise."

Lydia sighed, lifting the soft treat to her mouth, and sunk her teeth in with a decisive chomp… Pausing, and rolling the pleasant, utterly unstrange bit of pastry around in her mouth. A little flaky, like pie crust, only layered, like a biscuit, and sweet, deathly sweet, like-

A sudden surge of fear overwhelmed her, grabbed her guts hard in its cold grip, and her vision went briefly grey as the goth girl panicked, backing up fast, a sharp, terrified scream bursting from her lips…!

Almost as soon as it had struck her though, the sensation of panic passed, and Lydia blinked in surprise and puzzlement, not sure herself what she'd been so damn scared of, half the scream puff still in one hand, now thoroughly crushed between her fingers. She blinked again, then again, trying to sort this out, and only then noticed Beetlejuice holding her up, from where she'd apparently nearly tipped over, in her terror. He was grinning his ass off.

That's when everything clicked, and Lydia let loose a string of softly spoken curses, none more vile than, '_you damn, dirty playing, piece of poltergeist ass!' _Before she erupted in giggles, sagging in his arms for a moment, and letting him pull her up against himself for a squeeze of shared humor, before letting her stand on her own again.

A briefly puzzled look passed his face, as he let her go, but Lydia didn't even notice, still snorting in amusement as she viewed the sticky remains of her experiment spread between her fingers, and tried vainly to wipe them off on the tablecloth. Which did seem to be what it was for, after all. "That was… so freaky." She conceded at last, turning gleaming eyes up to the poltergeist, who immediately looked back on his step, seeing that familiar, impressed look there. "Like the scariest suspense thriller, and the gut-lurchingest roller coaster ride… In the dark!"

She reflected on the sensation a moment longer, before reaching for another one, murmuring under her breath, "I gotta try that again…" She was not a girl who scared easy, after all, and never one who didn't face her fears at every available turn. She was determined to lick these scream puffs… So to speak.

"You do that, babes." Beetlejuice agreed, amused, but not really expecting the game to be as fun for him a second time too, now that the surprise was worn off. "I'm gonna go see if I can find some butter-beetle grubs. Sure as hell ain't easy to find outside Grim-Sylvania, these days…"

Eight scream puffs later, Lydia was beginning to draw decidedly dirty looks, though in all honesty she could care less, giggling fiendishly between each bite, as the rush of adrenaline and lingering goosebumps made her giddy. She wondered if she was supposed to enjoy the damn things so much…

She started reaching for another, when Beetlejuice appeared back from wherever he'd gone, caught her wrist with his sticky fingers, and tugged her down the length of the table a ways. "Okay babes, that's enough… Too much of a good thing, and all that." He had a wry twist to his lips as he said it though, and she quickly matched his smirk, well aware the poltergeist was preaching what he himself, would never practice. "Besides, you fill up on that shit, you won't have any room left for all this _good_ stuff!"

Lydia's eyes turned to his opposite hand, which was filled with thick, squirming, greasy looking yellow worms, and felt a moment of nauseas hysteria when she realized why the hand he was holding onto her with was so sticky. "Oh god," She snickered, twisting her hand free, "How the hell can you eat those? Do they even stop squirming after you swallow them?

Beetlejuice sighed, smiling in satisfaction. "Nope." He assured her, obviously quite pleased with this fact, before lifting the handful of grubs, the way one would lift a handful of french fries, and biting through seven of them at once, before rolling the bitten ends around in his mouth with obvious pleasure. "Shit babes, you never tasted something so sweet, and greasy good…" He broke off, gave a nasty burp, and grinned at her, his teeth slick with slime, as he offered the half eaten handful in her direction. "Sure you don't wanna try 'em?"

"Um… Pretty sure I'll pass." Lydia assured him, politely pushing his hand back away, but watching in gruesome fascination as he licked, slurped, and gnashed his way through the rest of his 'treat.' Despite herself, she had to wonder what the hell was so good about them…

Averting her eyes only when he was finished, she considered a mass of what looked like thick, flat noodles, in a purplish maroon dripping, and wondered with a little surge of inanity if this was the neitherworld's answer to spaghetti. "Are those noodles?" She asked aloud, not quite brave enough to touch the writhing mass, which twisted and surged under her gaze like so many of the more noxious looking 'edibles' available at this little get-together.

"Nope, babes," Beetlejuice denied, snagging one long end with his grimy hand, and wafting it under his nose, like a connoisseur examining wine. "Tapeworms."

A surge of nausea finally overwhelmed Lydia, her eyes widening, as she did her best not to find out if her previous experiment in neitherworld fare would make her scream as much on the way out, as it did on the way in. "Oh hell, you're not serious…" She murmured, taking a step back from the revolting dish…

Only to notice Beetlejuice's cruel snicker as he watched her reaction. A wave of irritation, then fond amusement washed over her, and Lydia laughed softly. "No," She decided aloud, "You're _not_ serious are you?"

"Glad you know me so well, Lyds." Beetlejuice grinned, slurping up the end of the long, wriggling thing, "Just noodles in plum sauce. What kind of freaks do you think we-?" He paused then, about a foot of the 'noodle' slurped up, his eyebrows going briefly into his hairline. "Hold on…"

He mashed it between his teeth a little, experimentally, then nodded, looking satisfied. "Yep, a noodle." This time, Lydia couldn't tell if he'd been pulling her leg or not, and the girl could only eye him with a sense of wary disgust. Beetlejuice of course, ate it up. "Hell babes, you'd think you never seen neitherworld eats before… You gonna try _anything_?"

About to point out that she'd been perfectly content to continue devouring scream puffs for the rest of the night, even if it meant never sleeping again, Lydia once again realized the futility of using logic on the ghost with the most… Most likely, to his mind, that was already ancient history. He was her best friend, but the guy had the attention span of a gnat.

"Okay," She conceded, reaching out to tip a bowl of what looked like a familiar, if fried insect, "What are these? Grasshoppers?"

"Mm… Good choice, babes!" He clapped her on the back, hard enough to make her stumble, but the girl didn't even bother shooting him a dirty look. "Fried grasshopper tempura, with hot chilies and garlic… Great starter into the wonderful world of tasty creepy crawlies!" He snagged one out of the dish, and handed it to her. "Go on babes, eat up!"

Lydia stared at his grimy looking fingers, which she'd watched him lick up and down a few dozen times already that meal, and gave a small, sick smile. "I'll get my own, Beej. You eat that one."

"You think anyone else in this place got any cleaner hands than me, babes…" Beetlejuice grunted, popping the treat into his mouth. "Go on. Do your thing. I gotta see this… Your _first time _and all…" This earned him a scathing look, accompanied by a small, grudging smile, before Lydia did indeed grab a handful of the snacks, and popped the first one in her mouth. It was crunchy… And it surprised her a little, how flavorful and sweet it was. Just the same, she couldn't quite shake the little sense of gagging in the back of her throat, especially when something prickly, a leg or a wing maybe, began tickling her there.

Gamely, Lydia continued eating them, trying not to turn green. They didn't taste bad or anything… It was more the idea. But she didn't have much more to add after this, as Beetlejuice continued to pull her down the length of one long table after another… Until she saw something that made her stop in her tracks, and almost choke on the last of her tickly snacks.

"Is that a _sandworm_?" She demanded, pointed at the thickly sliced chunks of meat on the platter before her, large enough in itself that it would have taken three men just to lift it, and distinctly reminiscent of one of the nasty creature's thick, striped tails.

"Yup!" Beetlejuice agreed, getting a particularly nasty spark to his eyes, as he finally snagged a plate from the table, and heaved on what could only be called two thick sandworm steaks. "They eat us, we eat them… It's kinda something both sides take personally, you know?" He ripped off a thick chunk of meat with his bare fingers, held it up to the low light, where it glistened a light green, and noted in satisfaction, "You know what they say, Lyds… Revenge is a dish best served lightly sautéed, chilled, and with a wedge of lime!"

I… don't think that's what they say." Lydia noted, sort of musingly, fascinated by the idea of the dead so avidly feeding on those who'd so willingly feed on them. _Freakiest food chain I've ever heard of…_ She reflected, wondering at Beetlejuice, who in particular, seemed to relish the notion of chomping down on a little 'revenge.'

The poltergeist just shrugged, grinning nastily, as he continued to eye the strip of meat between his fingers. "It's what they say here!" He promised easily, leaving no way to tell if he was lying or not, before ripping his teeth into the first bite of what seemed to be some kind of delicacy to him.

Lydia reflected that most of this trip was actually just watching the poltergeist's sate his revolting appetite, and noted in the next thought that it was actually a pretty good way to spend the day. "So what's it taste like?" She asked curiously.

"Like shit." Beetlejuice answered, without hesitation. "Told ya babes, it's all about _revenge_…"

That actually sounded very much like something Beetlejuice would do, didn't it? But it also brought up a question… "You know, back then?" She prompted, unsure he'd want to bring up that particular memory, but also never one to tiptoe around her bold-spoken best friend. "When you got eaten by a sandworm?"

Now he paused, narrowing his eyes a little as he forgot his meal temporarily, and stared off into space with a scowl. "Yeah?" He muttered, clearly not happy she'd brought that up. "What about it?"

Lydia considered briefly how to best ask this question, and finally settled, only a brief thought later, with, "How did that _not_ kill you?"

Oddly, at her question, Beetlejuice's scowl was replaced with a smug little look. "Already dead, babes." He answered simply, turning back to his 'prize.' Just when she thought that was it though, he went on, sort of matter-of-factly, telling her, "Ate my way out of the goddamn thing. Had a stomach ache for weeks. Have to cook 'em just the right way to keep that from happening, and well… I was kinda in a hurry because I was _in its fucking stomach getting digested!_"

Surprised at how furiously this last came out, Lydia just sort of stared, until the poltergeist turned back to her with, for his relationship with the goth girl at least, a very uncharacteristic sneer. "Any more questions?"

"Um, no." She denied slowly, feeling oddly tempted to take a step back. It was hard to remember sometimes that Beej had that kind of temper… He always hid it so well around her! "That's all."

He continued to glare at her for about three breaths longer than she wanted him to, before he suddenly seemed to lose interest in his own bad mood, as well as the food he was eating. With a dismissive grunt, he tossed the whole goddamn plate over his shoulder, eliciting an angry yell from someone behind him… The poltergeist didn't even turn to see who. "You know now," He pointed out to her smoothly, but with a touch of warning, "It's _your_ turn to answer a question next."

Briefly puzzled, Lydia stared at him, not understanding, until she abruptly remembered the night they'd first met, and the exchange of question and answer the two had first bargained with. Unable to think of an appropriate response, other than, "We are _so _beyond that, Beej," She just grabbed him by the tie, and started leading him through the crowd, much to the cackling ghost's amusement.

She barely heard someone murmur, somewhere off to the side, _Is that Beetlejuice?_ And she, herself, paid it pretty much no mind, other than to smirk as her best friend flinched a little at the use of his name, and glared pointlessly through the crowd to see who had dared use it.

The next words though, made _her_ stop in her tracks, as someone else, out of the blue as far as she was concerned, met this with, _Then that must be the living world tramp that has Prince Vince so obsessed… Who else would hang out with Beetlejuice?_

Tramp? Her gut lurched. Is that really what people thought of her? But even as Lydia was gritting her own teeth over this, it seemed to spark something particularly _violent_ in her best friend, who strode through the crowd, amazingly forgetting the recent use of his name, to grab the guy by the neck, and conjure the thick woolen ball out of apparently nowhere, forcing a rather wet and slimy looking sock as far as he could down the other ghost's throat.

"That's my _babes _yer talking about there!" He growled, giving the guy a good shake, before throwing him backwards across the floor, to slide past several startled onlookers. And of course, with that, any hope of slipping out with as little damage as possible, went promptly to hell.

_Goddamn it, Beetlejuice_, Lydia fumed silently, even as something warm glowed in her belly at the sight of the slightly crazed ghost defending her honor, _Do you have a subtle bone in your body?_

Aloud she just muttered, "Let's get the hell out of here…" Moving forward far enough to grab him by the sleeve, and draw him once more towards the door, in some attempt at a dignified retreat. Of course if she'd been thinking clearly, she would have realized that dignity in this situation, didn't matter half as much as getting the hell out of there as fast as they could…

And she realized this as the doors to the food court flew open, and they were descended on by a wall of snapping, flashing, yelling ghost flesh, each one struggling to be louder than the others in an attempt to gain her attention. "Breather! Breather! Over here! Just a few question, if you don't mind!"

_The neitherworld press is a force unto itself_, Lydia thought giddily, quickly taking stock of her situation, as she took several steps back, to avoid the press of the, well, press. What kind of superpowers does a ghost have, to find out about something the second it's happening?

"Breather! Are you dating Prince Vince in a clandestine effort for the living to invade the neitherworld?" Was followed quickly by, "Breather! Do you think Prince Vince's only real reason for attraction is that you're still alive?" And this in turn, by, "How does it feel to be the Royal heir's living world trophy?"

It set her aback a little, to realize that not one person had a single_ nice_ thing to say about her, even in the form of a question… But Lydia quickly curbed her tongue on any harsh replies she might have summoned, all too aware that anything she said here, would reflect on Vincent, and be spread all across the neitherworld. Of course, keeping that in mind, there was the problem of Beetlejuice… Tactful he was not.

"Breather! Are you actually two-timing the royal heir with one of the neitherworld's most despised dead?" "Breather! Do you think it appropriate that people refer to you as Prince Vince's ghoul, when you're not even dead?" "Breather, if I can just have a moment of your time…!"

Lydia closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself, and somewhere in the back of her mind, aware of the irony of this. It was like not a damn one of them knew her name… But more importantly, she could feel Beetlejuice's power building around her like an electrical storm, and knew that at any minute, some heads were going to seriously fry, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it from happening. Beej was her best friend, but he was about to blow her world apart, and she couldn't _be_ there, and…!

A sound of frustration and anger ripped from Lydia's lips as, with her back pressed hard against one of the long tables, over a dozen microphones less than an inch from her face, and her best friend about to blow his top, there was just nowhere left to retreat to.

"_Home-home-home!_" She yelled, not sure herself what she was trying for, only to have the world pitch around her sickeningly, open up, and rip her away from all of them…

And Beetlejuice, his hair still standing on end from the explosion he'd been about to unleash, stared uselessly at the spot where Lyds had stood only a moment before, caught off guard as no trace of the living girl was left in the crowded food court. She'd left. She'd gone back to the living world. And she hadn't even needed him to do it. She was gone… And she'd left _him _behind.

Beetlejuice gritted his teeth, and turned back into the crowd, who seemed to take a moment longer than he had to figure out what had happened. His eyes glinted with fury and… something else. The idea that the girl _he _needed in order to get in and out of the neitherworld, no longer needed him to do the same. An irrational sense that the only person he really gave a damn about was suddenly slipping through his fingers. And he smiled, because it was the last thing he felt like doing.

He smiled, as the press drifted away, disappointed, utterly ignoring him as even a commentary piece, and inside, for the first time in a long time, something inside the poltergeist was afraid…

And for the death of him, he didn't know why.

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	3. Loyalty

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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I think this may the longest chapter I've ever submitted... That totally makes up for it being late, right? Anyway. Bummed beyond belief that not as many people seem into this, but those who do, they keep me going. Yay! And maybe I'll pick up a few more readers as I go along...

Did I mention I had to go without internet for almost a week? I thought I was going to lose my _mind_!

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Vincent's head bowed far over the yellow parchments that littered his desk, any attempts at neatness long since surrendered to the efforts it took to complete his studies each day. To give his ancestors no reason to find fault with him. To be _perfect_, and give them no excuse to take Lydia away.

His hair fell over the aged papers, as he squinted in the flicking firelight at the tiny scrawl before him, black strands brushing black letters, obscuring smudges of ink, casting everything into shadow. For now, he utterly ignored the well-shaped woman who was murmuring aloud from yet one more tome before him. Using what was almost certainly the most seductive voice she could summon.

At last she seemed to realize the uselessness of her low tone though, and just sat, watching him with wide, baleful eyes, a beckoning shade of green. She sighed, and heaved a tightly-corseted breast, tossing back flaming red hair, which actually licked here and there with real flame. Surely what had drawn his parents to her. Her pert, tiny nose, wrinkled in frustration, as she closed the ancient book, delicate hands folding across its tattered cover. "Prince Vince, are you even paying attention?"

"No." He answered softly, not having to look up from his studies to see how bent over the young woman was now, putting herself well into his view, and batting wild red lashes at him. "I left you behind some time ago… Now kindly be silent, Miss Rose. You are distracting from my work."

A pause of silence followed this, before smoothly, the buxom ghost reached across, daringly laying her fingers lightly over the prince's hand, tingling with her particular brand of heat against it. "If you have gone so far ahead already, then surely a moment of rest is not misplaced, your highness…"

Vincent didn't even look up, his tone, when he offered his warning, showing no indication of interest either way. "Either remove your hand from my arm, Miss Rose, or I shall be forced to remove it from your wrist." He intoned lowly. But he was bluffing of course… That is, he _thought_ he was bluffing, even if his patience had grown more stretched now with each new such 'suggestion' his parents made available to him. None less welcome yet than the one currently making her presence known before him.

It was decidedly satisfying when the newest of these unpleasant distractions yanked her hand away at his threat, like she had no reason to doubt him. Glinting green eyes glowered in his direction, before she noted aloud, no longer trying nearly as hard to be seductive as she'd spent these past two hours, "And here I was under the impression that you were a man who enjoyed a _warm_ touch…"

The young royal ignored the sweeping sense of distaste and anger bristling at his skin, and merely noted calmly, "Given that, a dozen other similarities, and a pulse of your own, woman…" And here he lifted his gaze, just enough to meet hers. "You would still be nothing but an unwelcome distraction to me right now. As I cannot send you away, kindly seat yourself and remain silent until I am done." With a slight stress on the words here, as she clearly considered protesting this, "I will _not_ ask nicely again, Miss Rose." This time, he convinced even himself that he wasn't bluffing.

But then, he couldn't bluff forever. Not in a world where every aspect of a man's personality was inscribed more and more across his flesh each day. The neitherworld simply didn't tolerate deceit… Making each soul's true nature increasingly obvious to the world as they lived within it. And at the moment, he was nothing, and his appearance reflected that. But slowly, he was forcing himself to change.

After all, to have Lydia, to have the right to _keep_ her, he had to be stronger. And he needed everyone to know it. _Everyone_.

There were no further interruptions as he took his time, perusing each page, despite an increasing desire to leave the tired old library, and seek out more pleasant company. His fingers curled upon the fragile pages, twitching from time to time, at his desire to be _done_.

But it had to be done right…

He lifted the grayed quill, dipped it in the tarnished inkwell, and took his tongue lightly between his teeth, as he began to answer the questions demanded of him by the ancient text. The point of the feather flew across the parchment, trailing sweeping, precise spider-script, each letter flowing into the next, perfect, but hurried. His brows pressed together intently, as his infinite gaze inspected his work carefully for flaws, and found none.

At last, nearly an hour later, the prince set down his quill, and leaned back slowly, closing his tired eyes, and running long, light fingertips across his lids, rubbing gently. Despite the stiffness that seemed to inhabit every inch of his body, the ghost felt a deep sense of relief as well. One more test completed. He wasted no time, for now, on wondering how he'd done. The scroll would be wrapped with a black ribbon, impressed with his personal seal, and hurried away to some ancient scholar, whom he didn't know, who would judge the worthiness of a prince he'd likely never meet.

One more test, out of hundreds.

Opening his eyes again, he regarded the young woman across from him, considering how best to deal with _this _little hurdle now. She was pouting, looking both bored and offended, as her now lackluster green eyes gazed off at some hidden corner of the vast library, now utterly uninterested in the heir prince, as she waited for him to finish. Unwilling to risk his parents' temper, if she tried to leave before waiting out the length allotted for her 'task.'

It wasn't her fault of course. She was simply doing as she was told. As the dozens before her had done, tutors, hand servants, messengers, decorators, maids… Far too many from his own extended family, filling otherwise contemptible positions in the eyes of his parents, for it to be coincidence. 'Proper' young ladies, to divert his attention in any way possible, from the one consort in the neitherworld that they found unforgivably unsuited for their son.

But it did no good to make them his enemies. These were the people he intended to rule one day… Breeding animosity at this point was nothing less than counterproductive. "Miss Rose," He prompted now, with considerably more patience now that his work was done, "I beg your indulgence for a moment."

The woman in question lifted her gaze to him, clearly not expecting an abrupt about face now, no matter how politely he was speaking. "Your highness." She agreed simply, as if those two simple words allowed him any fit of temper or demand he pleased.

He considered her evenly across the simple desk, steeling his spine against the urge that gripped him to look anywhere but the eyes of the woman facing him, expecting him to offer something princely. "I would ask your patience," He murmured quietly, "And your understanding of my situation. I have long since made my choice of a woman to pursue, and have at no point given any indication that I intend to change my mind."

"That being said, I realize that you come here at my parents' behest. I realize that you are only obeying my family. Your devotion to the crown is, admirable. But, Miss Rose… Realize now, that _I_ am of the crown as well. And I will not remain a mere princeling forever."

A pause, as he dropped his eyes to the scroll he'd spent the past several hours upon, and began rolling it, reaching for the black ribbon to bind it, before offering his seal, and lifting it, meeting her gaze again, and proving that he had not forgotten her. "One day, Miss Rose… I _will_ be king."

The woman before him blinked, looking nothing so much as surprised… And then her eyes quickly grew calculating, and a small frown crossed her pouty lips. "But your great-grandfather still holds that crown." She pointed out quietly, visibly weighing the current situation in her mind. "I doubt he intends to surrender it soon… Do you mean for usurpation?"

"It is not usurpation," Vincent pointed out easily, not batting an eye, "When there is not a man, woman, or child in this neitherworld, who does not know that I _am_ the rightful heir to that crown." A small pause, and then he turned his gaze away again, reaching for the slender metal tube that would hold the important document on its journey. "Make no mistake," He assured her quietly, sliding the paper smoothly into place, "I will be king, Miss Rose."

Silence followed this, as the ramifications of the prince's words sank in, and his distant cousin, by some relation or another, weighed what it meant, him stating his intentions in such a straightforward way. As if he had no intentions of hiding what he planned… And knew, in some irrefutable way, that no one could stop him. But none of _that _really mattered to her, so when she asked, with her first true interest during his little study session, "And what does this mean, highness?" What she was really asking, of course, was what did this mean, for _her_.

Vincent didn't answer straight way, upending the slender tube, and peering within, to see that the important parchment was indeed already vanished from sight, gone to wherever it was intended to go, and closed the cap with a smooth twist, before turning his attention to the woman again.

"It means that a wise person would play to my parents' favor only enough to appease them, while keeping in mind that garnering mine now, will prove far more valuable to them in the long run." A pause before, "Keep the alternative in mind as well, Miss Rose. I assure you… I am not a man to cross."

For a long moment after this, neither one said anything, as the woman weighed this in her mind, and searched Vincent's features, perhaps for some indication of how likely his overthrow would be. Her eyes, like brands of green ice, burned into his. And slowly, a look of satisfaction settled into that unholy green gaze, as she seemed to find what she was searching for. "Then I will take your words under advisement… My liege."

Two words, at the end of that statement, that meant the world… Or a chance at it. "Then," He agreed slowly, rising to his feet, "I will keep that under consideration." His eyes flicked briefly away, indicating the door. "Now, as I _am _finished here…?"

"Of course." And the woman who'd been snared by his parents in an effort to control him, left the library without another word. Under _his_ control.

Once she was gone, Vincent sagged briefly on his feet, bowing his head, and running his fingers slowly through long black strands. It was not an exaggeration, to say that he hated this game already. If he could have simply walked away, left his crown and all its trapping behind, he'd do it in an instant… Being king, no, being royalty at all, was never something he'd desired.

But a royal heir, and an only child at that, could no more abdicate the throne and join the rest of the neitherworld, than gain a pulse, and join the world of the living. Though of course, others had tried exactly such tactics before… But again, not the crown prince.

And likewise, _he_ couldn't be so easily disinherited.

With a sweep of his hand, he sent all the papers back into place, and every book back onto the shelf, and paid neither one another moment's thought. His obligations finished, he could now do what _he_ wanted to do… And there was really only one thing in all the worlds he did want.

His mind turned already back to Lydia, to the night before, and the feel of her soft body, pressed briefly against his in his daring to stay her… The taste of her warm lips… Yes, by all that was holy, _warm_, what did it harm anyone? Salty, warm. Alive. Was it so horrible?

He ran his hand across his mouth, remembering again why he loved her. Alive, yes. Alive, in a way that had nothing to do with a beating pulse, or the warmth of her skin. Alive in a way that lit her dark eyes from behind, made her most careless touch as intimate as thought, and made each breath turn to velvet on her lips…

A wry smile passed his mouth, and the prince shook his head, bemused by his own infatuation with the girl. Still, if she wasn't otherwise occupied, he could look in on her for at least a while… She seemed to yet find reason to object.

Striding across the library with a sense of relief and hope, he paused only long enough at the enormous double doors to lay his hands against them, enjoying the tangible feeling of the rough wood against his palms before he threw them open…

Only to freeze, an entirely unplanned look of sheer irritation to cross his features, at the sight of his father's chancellor stumbling back, nearly caught by the widely yawning doors. His eyes crossed the royal official's features in an instant… And he knew already that he wouldn't like what the other ghost had to say. "You seem troubled," Vincent prompted, softly, his eyes no less than steel, "What am I to have done now, then?"

At the tone that the increasingly ill-tempered princeling was using, the normally stern-mannered man hesitated, before forcing his features into a facsimile of his usual strength. "Not you." The man informed him, though nothing in his tone indicated that he didn't blame him anyway, for what he was about to say, "That living world _pet_ of yours…"

He got no further than this, finding himself abruptly stumbling back from the force of his prince's sudden blow… And from the force of it, hard-pressed to keep his feet. More than anything though, the emotion on his face registered as surprise… Royalty, in his experience, didn't resort to something as vulgar as brute violence. At least not themselves.

Training his eyes back on the boy he'd known from the time he was small, he seemed caught off guard again by the creature he faced now… Nothing like the uncertain, hesitant, painfully _shy_ princeling he'd dismissed time and again as utterly inconsequential. _This_ young man stood like a force of god, shadows bending around his slender frame with the power that flowed through him, eyes glowing like two black coals of hell…

"Do not ever," The prince hissed, truly never angrier than he was in that moment, "_Ever _dare to speak of _my _Lydia in such a way again!" His jaw, hard, clenching between every word, as he was thrown from a rather pleasant mood into nothing less than fury, over the weight of a few words. Then his voice, close to death's own, dropped to a sound little more than a breath, growing no less dangerous as he whispered, "You press my patience more each day, advisor. _I_, would advise that you _stop_."

For a long moment after this, the two exchanged a heavy silence, as what had been merely a loathing to become involved in the dispute between the prince and his father, became a sudden clear awareness of which was more likely to prove dangerous to his health.

When he spoke again, everything about his manner had changed… The way he stood, the way he spoke, the way he held his eyes, _everything_. "Forgive me, my prince." The ghost whispered, his tone nothing but respectful now. "I spoke out of place, it will not happen again."

"See that it does not." There. He'd acted, no more empty threats- And this time was _not _an empty threat- And he hadn't thought twice about it. And it felt _good_. Vindicating.

Taking a slow, deep breath between his teeth, Prince Vince was about to dismiss him, when a sudden realization that the man did in fact bring news of his Lydia, made him pause, and consider the creature again.

"Lydia?" He prompted, only now considering that this might be important. "What of her?" He felt the breath pulled from him as he asked the question… This _was_ Lydia, after all. There was no telling what had happened, when she was involved. Albeit most likely due to Beetlejuice…

But _that _could be worried about later. "Tell me. Now."

----------------

Lydia sat on the edge of her bed silently, shoulders tense, hands folded tightly atop her knees. Staring intently at the tips of her shoes. So far, this was all she'd done since she got back.

Back there… It was too much. Not the attention, or the condemning questions, or anything there in the _moment_… But the realization that it was only going to get worse. Until that day, until that very moment, she'd been spared the very worst of the media's attention. Likely because Vincent had been with her whenever they caught wind of her presence in the neitherworld, or so she suspected now.

She'd had no idea that the only reason they hadn't swarmed her like this already, was simply because they didn't know she was _there_…

And then, like an idiot, she'd panicked, and made her escape, and left her best friend behind. It would have been so easy, just _BeetlejuiceBeetlejuiceBeetlejuice,_ and they would have both been out of there, piece of cake. Instead, in her moment of… _what_? It didn't matter. She'd thrown him to the wolves. And of course, the last thing she could do was call him now, and admit she'd made a mistake.

She literally couldn't do that. He hadn't told her to. And ripping the poltergeist from one side to the other on a whim, was _not_ a power she had. Not anymore.

And her mirror remained empty.

Lydia lifted her hand, and rested it over her chest, feeling the small tingles of cold there, both from the ring she'd worn so long now, and something beneath it, something _inside_ her. _Next to my heart_, she thought with a wry twist to her lips, sneaking another glance towards her dresser mirror. _Hey Beej, I keep my promise to you next to my heart_.

It was an inane little thought, and just the mood breaker she needed to shake off her guilty, confused funk. Rather than standing though, she collapsed backwards, and sighed, staring up uselessly at the black scribbles she'd drawn onto her canopy many years before. She lifted her hand, and traced one of the runes in the air with her finger, thinking.

Unfortunately, for the life of her, she couldn't come up with any answers. Beetlejuice was pissed, there was no question of it. He'd have shown up by now, mouthing off with some smart ass comment about her running away like a scared kid, if he wasn't. No use dwelling on that until he actually showed up though… And he would. After all, everything else aside, she was still his way out.

Vincent was another matter… Something in her middle twisted and lurched, thinking about how he'd react to what had happened back there. That he wouldn't find out was out of the question… Word _would_ get back to him. And the prince was, admittedly, a bit overprotective of her at the best times. Certain the world was out to hurt her. And unfortunately, far too often right.

"He's gonna rip them apart…" Lydia mused aloud, before coming to her senses, and shaking her head, correcting herself. No, not Vincent, not something so… public. Of all she knew about the prince's quirks, she was certain that he hated being in the spotlight, above all else. He was more likely to handle the situation indirectly... Or at least, try to. She knew from the tabloids of this world though, that the press weren't easily deterred. This was probably a fate she was stuck with, as long as-

As long as they were together. Lydia licked her top lip, narrowing her eyes briefly, then pushed herself back off the mattress, moving easily to her feet, despite her long motionless state. "Damn it, Beej…" She muttered under her breath, needing someone to vent her anger on, and choosing her most common source of frustration, from long-learned instinct, more than anything. "Where the hell are you?"

A knock at the door, soft as it was, shot icy surprise down her spine like a steel rod, making her jump, and almost fall. For a minute there, she'd almost forgotten she wasn't the only one left in this world… "Hello?" Her voice came out, startlingly near a rasp, making her lips twist again in a bemused smile, before she managed, as an afterthought, "I mean… Come in!"

Barb peeked around the door, beaming like the sunrise, and Lydia found it impossible to hold onto what remained of her poor mood, faced with it. "Lydia!" She greeted her, coming the rest of the way into her room, and brushing her palms off, with a twist, on her skirts. "I thought I heard your voice! When did you get back?"

"Um, just a few minutes ago." Lydia faltered, not certain herself why she was lying… By this point, not really even noticing she was. "I mean, I was lying down… I got back a while ago. I just now got up." She paused, a small relief at having straightened out her story, which for all her stumbling was almost the truth, and ran her fingers through her hair, slowly gathering her senses. A small, real smile formed this time. "What, did you miss me?"

"Every time you leave." Barbara assured her, with a sense of honesty that was almost unsettling in itself to hear, though she didn't once lose her cheerful mood. "Speaking of which, you _left _pretty early. I didn't even see you this morning!" A pause, before she lowered her head in a conspiratorial way, and whispered, "Who had you in such a hurry? Hmm?"

Lydia stifled a laugh, and the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, she was almost sixteen. Anyone would assume it was a boy. And, well, sort of, it was. Just _seriously_ not like that.

_Oh, I went to visit the neitherworld with Beetlejuice for a while…_ Aloud she just countered the woman, smirking, with, "You're just trying to get me in trouble."

Barbara lifted a brow, something in her eyes becoming more mischievous… A look that didn't seem like it should belong there, but easily did. "Oh really? With your parents?" And here her voice dropped again, "Or with _Vincent_?"

The teasing accusation made her briefly lose her 'footing,' and stare at the woman in surprise, if only because she had indeed been worried about that, and she hadn't been expecting the words from her foster mother. "Vincent?" Was all she managed, a sort of hollow echo, before she regained her ability to think, with the quickness born of a familiarity of being set off her balance.

This time she did laugh, just as Barbara began to look like she was considering a disapproving expression, as if she thought Lydia might indeed have done something she shouldn't. Which, in all fairness, she had. "_Vincent_!" Lydia sat again, this time with a little more enthusiasm. "That's what this is about, isn't it?" Her mind raced for the words, even as they emerged from her mouth. "You think I snuck off with him, don't you?"

It was of course, exactly the right thing to say… for the moment anyway. She'd had plenty of practice. It even made Barbara chuckle. "Please. Like you need to sneak out with _him_… Everyone in this family is crazy about the boy. _Although_," She added, just a touch too knowingly, "Somehow I doubt that you haven't seen that young man since Halloween."

Lydia, in a completely unplanned reaction, blushed. "You know how far away he lives…" She protested, all her defenses forgotten, as she suddenly became a hopelessly infatuated teenager, no different from any other.

"Actually," Barbara mused, reflecting briefly on this, "I don't. You never did tell me." And as Lydia's mind readied to gear up at these words into a full blown panic, Barbara added, going on without even noticing her goddaughter's sudden alarm, "But that's not the point. I'm suddenly more interested in _why_ you think you need to sneak around, in order to see him."

A touch of concern brushed her soft brown eyes, as she considered the girl silently for a moment after this, clearly thinking through what she was going to say before she said it. Good humor not quite gone, but that quickly, a bit pressed. "What is it that the two of you do together, Lydia?"

Thinking things through ahead of time was rarely a privilege that Lydia had, and at her ghost friend's words, she wished more than ever that she did. Because for the life of her, she couldn't understand the question… All that was coming to _her _mind at the moment, were long horseback rides in the neitherwoods, or candlelight picnics in the palace gardens, or impromptu dances in the middle of nowhere, like the two of them were the only ones in the whole neitherworld. Surely none of which Barbara knew…

The _actual _reasoning behind the older woman's question, in fact, completely eluded her, and all she could offer was an intelligent, "Huh?" In an effort to buy more time.

Barbara's lips tightened, just a little. "You _know_ what I'm talking about, Lydia."

She did? No, wait, she did. A sound, not quite definable as any one emotion, escaped Lydia's lips. "You're kidding, right? _Vincent_? The guy hasn't even gotten comfortable with…" And here she stopped, quickly, because Barbara knowing something like that about him would horrify her poor boyfriend. Something told her that kissing and telling wasn't the kind of thing a 'proper' person did.

But hell, she couldn't just leave it at that… Lydia met Barbara's gaze flatly, lips curled in a thin humor. "Barb, we've kissed. That's it. I swear."

The ghost woman looked dubious, but also like she didn't want to straight out call her goddaughter a liar. Not a little like she didn't desperately _want_ to believe her, too. "Lydia," She chided gently, shaking her head, "I was your age once too… And don't forget, so was Adam. And back then, we were already-"

And here, abruptly, Barbara seemed to run out of what to say. She hesitated, cleared her throat while Lydia did her best not to die laughing, and tried again, shooting the girl a stern look. "Let's just say that you're not the first teenage girl in history to have a boyfriend, honey."

Lydia, her hand across her stomach in an attempt to hold in her giggles, just sat there with a twitching smile, and nodded, unable to come up with a response that wouldn't further embarrass one of her oldest friends. It took a moment in fact, for her to manage a reasonably mature, "Huh…"

Barbara sighed, looked pointedly skyward while Lydia managed to get herself under control, then tried again. "Lydia, regardless of _how_ I know… I know teenage boys." Just as if the awkward little exchange hadn't happened at all, and she was still completely focused on her point. "Lydia, has Vincent been pressuring you to-"

"Vincent wouldn't pressure me to do shit." Lydia denied easily, and maybe just a bit too bluntly. "The guy's as old-fashioned about romantic stuff as a… monk." And for once, this was the honest to god truth. "Look, Barb… Vincent's the last guy on earth you have to worry about. He's practically Prince Charming." Shit, did she actually just say that? She must be losing it…

"So where did you go this morning?" Barbara pressed, not ready to let it go just yet.

This had gone far enough, she was starting to get frustrated. With Barb's persistent question though, or having to lie, or herself, she didn't know herself. Lydia just shook her head, turning away from the other woman, and walked across the room to her dresser, giving her reflection a long, tolerant look. Hiding behind eyes that looked like they could pierce a soul, and promised… what?

"I woke up and I couldn't get back to sleep. I went to get something to eat. Then I ended up staying out for a while. That's it." It sounded like a lie to her. Why now? Was it just getting harder to lie, the more she realized how deeply she was digging herself in? Or did she care more now, the damage she was doing, constantly deceiving the people she loved?

Either way, for once, Barb clearly wasn't buying it. For a moment, the ghost woman considered her words, and her, then asked quietly, pointedly, "And who did you go with?"

One more deception. What was one more? This would take some careful evasion though. Also the honest to god truth… As inconcisely as possible.

Lydia's lips firmly briefly, before she turned to face the woman again. Meeting her friend's gaze, she made no attempt to hide her sudden tiredness, if not for the reasons she was putting on. "Barb?" She prompted softly. "Vincent's nowhere near Winter River right now, and neither Bertha nor Prudence have time these days for anything but college." A pause, to make her next words more significant, then, "Who is it that I was _supposed _to go with, exactly? You and Adam?"

It was a low blow, and she knew damn well that it was a low blow, but it worked. Barb looked first surprised, then slowly, apologetic, and maybe just a trace guilty. "Oh Lydia," She murmured softly, "Don't you have any other friends?"

"You _know _all my friends." Lydia's promised her, not really lying… Which was the point, though some reason, this time made her feel like shit, in a way that struck deeper than usual. Maybe because she knew she was going too far this time... And gave a damn, whether she wanted to or not. "Did I leave anyone out?" It_ was _evasive…

And this time, Barbara clearly didn't know what to say, and proved it by saying nothing at all, until… "Oh honey, are you okay?" As she crossed the room, sweeping the girl up in her arms. "I didn't realize things had gotten so hard lately…"

Okay, now officially, she felt like she'd crossed a line… And she had the sudden, unshakable sense, that her lies would only work so much longer. She _would_ be found out, and there _would_ be hell to pay. But for now... "I'm fine, Barb." She muttered, dismissing her worries, for now. "I'm gonna see Bertha and Prudence tomorrow at the park… They do still hang out when they've got time."

Pushing the woman back, she reached deep in her gut, found what she was looking for, and gave her as genuine a smile as she was able… "And then there's volunteering too…" She heard herself saying, already beginning to feel better, if only for what she wasn't willing to surrender for the sake of the truth. "Not to mention you and Adam. I've got plenty of company." She didn't notice that she hadn't even counted her real parents in the equation…

Barbara looked dubious, but determined- judging from her expression- not to press the girl about it any further. "Why don't you come downstairs, while I put some cocoa on?" She prompted kindly, ever one to believe that nothing in life couldn't be solved over a hot cup of cocoa, and conversation. "And you can tell me everything that's been going on in your life… With Vincent, with school… I don't want you to leave out a detail! All right?"

Lydia shook her head. Damn. The woman was going to kill her with kindness… This wasn't working. She didn't want to talk to Barbara, she wanted to talk to _Beetlejuice… _And hell only knew he wasn't going to show up anytime soon.

_So I'll go find him._ The idea hit her so abruptly, so easily, that she wondered why the hell she hadn't thought of it sooner. She couldn't call him to her, but she could still go through mirrors… And maybe find some way to track him down with them too! Them, and that little piece of his juice she carried… After all, it had worked that way for him on more than one occasion. Why not her too?

Oh, wait. Barbara. The ghost woman was waiting for her answer. _She_ wanted to go downstairs, and have a heart to heart, about all the little things that _weren't_ bothering her goddaughter. _I wish knowing that there's no hell waiting for me later, made me feel any better about doing this…_

"Barb…" She really had no lies or twisting of truths left in her, not facing that tender worry in the eyes of a woman who'd always meant more to her than her own mother. "I really don't want to talk right now. But I will take that cocoa." Beetlejuice could wait that long. She owed Barbara that much. Repair the damage, ease her guilt a little, until she was ready to play this game a while longer.

But the first chance she had after that, Lydia was gone.

---------------

If it had come down to why he was so frigging pissed, he would have been stumped. So the girl had saved her own skin, so what? She knew damn well he could take care of himself. She'd been the one they were after, anyways. And so what things had gotten a little out of control… Not like it was the first time that had happened during one of _their _little outings.

Their fun had been cut short, sure, that annoyed him. But it didn't explain his dour mood either, so in the end, he really had no idea what was eating at him. But he was pretty sure a stiff drink could fix it.

Or had been, roughly two hours before. Now he was slowly beginning to have his doubts. And that was forcing him to actually think about it. He glowered at the moss-colored glass bottle, a whiff of what could have been ammonia or gasoline making itself known in the otherwise smoke-filled air, _from_ said bottle, and debated getting some real world shit instead. Only that would mean calling Lyds… And for the fucking hell of him, he didn't want to deal with the girl right now. Even if he didn't know why.

_Somethin's changed_… He lifted his drink, and drew heavily from its long wine shaped neck, the dangerous fluid inside burning all the way down his throat, as he gulped at it masochistically. _Fuck, something's changed…_ That was it of course. That was what he didn't like. He'd had something good all this time, and it was changing. Change was almost never good.

He brought down the bottle, hard, and narrowed his eyes, reflecting on just what it was that was different. The thing was, nothing _seemed_ different at all. Not that he could see. Lyds was still underfoot all the time, keeping him company and giving him the kind of appreciative audience he always would have killed for… It didn't seem to him like _she'd _changed, but…

But she would, wouldn't she? Breathers did it all the time, grew, changed… Kept changing. Refused to fucking stick with a good thing. Sure, people changed in the neitherworld, but breathers? They had it down to a fucking _science_. Funny thing was, it'd never bugged him before… Kept them interesting. But hell, Lyds was…

Lyds was _his_. He couldn't see her growing up, moving on with her life, growing _old_. Leaving him behind like he was some kind of fucking _phase_. He bit his knuckle, hard.

Damned if he'd let her do that.

Grunting under his breath, he reached for the bowl of flea-nuts, stale as they were, and covered in a fine layer of filth. What did he give a fuck? They were free. Tasted like ashes and salt in his mouth… He made a small sound, somewhere between satisfied, and annoyed. He got it now. The girl was growing up, that's what that shit back there meant with the press. People gave a damn suddenly, her dating the prince. Before it hadn't mattered. Girl _was _growing up.

So what did that mean for him? The corner of his mouth twisted in a wry, disgusted grimace. Hell. He knew what it _should _mean… Lyds could be his way out for good, after all. Once she was a little older, he could use all those brownie points he'd wracked up with the girl over the years, and make the trouble-making little goth girl fall for him, hard. Right? Even be _fun_ to pass eternity with…

He pushed the bowl aside, oddly no longer hungry, and reached in his pocket for a cigarette, suddenly needing something to take the nasty taste of neitherworld booze and stale eats out of his mouth… Or maybe to steady his nerves, or something. The first deep lungful of smoke, he kept in him until it felt like his chest was on fire from the acrid stuff, then let it out slowly, hissing past his lips.

Damn. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just think of the girl as a fucking way out. Who knew?

"Fucking kid's getting under my skin…" He muttered to himself through the cigarette, before leaning back, drawing it from his lips…

And freezing, as a swell of ghostly energy rose into the room behind him, flecked with sparks of fury, and rich red, when he lidded his eyes, with loathing. Strong. Real strong. _Royal_ strong. Just what he fucking _didn't_ need.

A sigh fell from him, silently, and for now, he pretended he'd noticed nothing. A moment later, a shortly spoken, "Leave. Now." Telling him nothing he hadn't already known. Figuring it didn't apply to him, Beetlejuice continued enjoying his smoke.

Once everyone else had left though, he decided that _he_ should be the one to start this conversation. "Lyds ain't here right now." He prompted, in a sort of lazy drawl, finally snuffing it out, but still not turning to his rival for the girl's attention… As he suddenly realized the prince was. "Leave a message at the beep, and we'll do our best not to give a fuck."

"Beetlejuice…" Prince Vince prompted softly, something decidedly different in the young man's tone from the last time Beetlejuice had spoken with him. "I'm afraid I fail to see the humor. You will have to enlighten me."

The poltergeist finally turned, grudgingly acknowledging the prince-ling… Only to pause in surprise as he faced, not a boy little older than his Lyds, but what was surely a full grown man. He even had to crane his own head up a little to look at him. "Well, shit…" He muttered under his breath, moderately surprised, "What the hell happened to you?"

This at least, seemed to put the royal off his step. The prince just frowned, clearly with no idea what the other ghost was referring to… And seemed to wait for an explanation.

_Clearly he forgot who he's fucking dealing with_… "Pull up a stool, prince-arino!" Beetlejuice invited him, with a little flourish of his arm. "We'll knock back a few room-temperature, cheap-ass drinks, catch up on old times…" He reached for his pocket, adding, with a lift of his eyebrows, "You smoke?"

Prince Vince, for his part, had yet to move from where he'd been standing before, simply giving Beetlejuice a long, cold stare. "I would like to know what happened this afternoon," He prompted at last, finally getting to his reason for being there, "At the Freaky Food Court. Is my Lydia all right?"

To Beetlejuice's credit, he _did_ start to offer the guy a reassurance that his girlfriend was fine, when the prince's specific wording sunk in, and the poltergeist paused, giving the other man a long, pointed look. "_Your_ Lyds?" He grunted, a spark of challenge to his dangerous green gaze. "Funny thing, that… Don't remember her being _yours_, your royal pain-in-the-ass…"

The prince wasn't set back even for a moment, for all that he couldn't possibly be used to that kind of blatant disrespect. "Did you think she was _yours_?" He countered flatly, which was of course, the worst possible thing he could have said to the already foul-mooded dead man, whose frown deepened just marginally as he considered his best friend's boyfriend. Who also happened to be a goddamn Royal.

Without a word, Beetlejuice turned back to his drink, determined not to answer. He didn't need his ass hauled to the lost soul's room… And maybe more importantly, Lyds would kick his ass if he so much as laid a finger on his royal bratness…

A moment later though, something surprising happened. Surprising enough to make Beetlejuice forget his drink, and his bad mood, and turn in disbelief, to stare at the prince like he'd grown another head. "I, apologize." The young man said slowly. "Lydia would not have me being so rude to someone she cares for… And…" Here he paused, before admitting, "And this is Lydia we speak of. I am not certain either one of us have as much claim on her as we would like to."

"Lyds _is _her own babes." Beetlejuice agreed sagely, grudgingly impressed with the prince's apology, as he turned back to his drink. "Can't the Maitlands do shit with her, can't the Deetzs… What the hell chance do a couple of dead guys like us have?" Despite the defeated sound to the words though, he was smirking, put in a much better humor by the fact. "Wouldn't either one of us have it any other way though, I 'spose."

A small pause, then quietly, "No. I would not have Lydia change for all the neitherworld." Another, longer pause, before, "Though I cannot say I am pleased with her continued fascination with the likes of you. I am certain you have caused my- have caused, dear Lydia, far more difficulty than she would ever admit to me."

Beetlejuice snorted. "Damn straight!" He agreed, suddenly rising, and drifting nonchalantly through the bar in front of him. "So what's your poison, Vinny? Tequila? Vodka? Gin? Ain't gonna find none of it worth shit here, I gotta warn you, but it'll help you forget what ails you, long enough for you to get it down."

Vince stared at the poltergeist, well aware he'd been cut off his line of questioning, and more aware than he would ever admit, of what Lydia saw in the man. Maybe because he saw many of the same things in her, if not to the same extreme. He drew his hand down his chin, and sighed, letting his guard down briefly, and well aware that Beetlejuice was the last person he should be letting his guard down around.

"Scotch, I suppose." He allowed, finally moving to the bar, and taking a seat.

"A scotch man, huh?" Beetlejuice grunted dismissively, then cackled, giving him a nasty glance. "Well I guaren-fucking-tee you, Vinny, this shit won't be anything like the classy stuff you're used to… You manage to keep it down, you can color me fucking impressed!" And he dropped the bottle in front of him, not bothering with a glass. "Bottoms up, kid!"

The prince eyed the grungy bottle dubiously, wondering to himself if he really cared either way what the much-despised ghost thought of him… And found, perhaps against his will, that he did. But as much as anything, to him, that seemed a reason to refuse. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, grabbed the bottle in one hand, and without a second thought, swung it to his lips.

As the first scalding, foul-tasting mess reached his mouth, every instinct told him not to swallow it… And in retrospect, as the noxious fluid made its way down his throat, he realized that he probably should have listened. He hadn't drunk more than a bottle's worth of liquor in his life, and none of it was like this unholy hellfire…

One swallow was all he managed, but he kept a straight face, lowered the bottle with a steady hand, and met the poltergeist's gaze flatly. The last thing he expected was for Beetlejuice to start laughing so hard that he fell behind the bar, amid many crashing bottles, and sounds of cackling and pain.

Angry, he got to his feet, ready to drag the other poltergeist to his, wondering why he'd made the effort to make peace with the ridiculous-

Beetlejuice's hand came down hard on the bar, and with one lurching motion, he pulled himself to his feet, eyes flashing with an odd mix of approval and… something else. Something less pleasant. Even if he couldn't put his finger on what. "Only ever knew of one other Royal who'd lower himself to drink this low-class crap," He muttered grudgingly, no trace of laughter in his voice now, "Didn't expect you to."

As he paused to pull a long shard of glass out of his ass with a grunt, Vincent was left staring at him with a sudden sense that the last place he should be, was at a run-down bar trying to impress a man that made it his life's purpose to defy the royal family at every turn. And a second, sudden certainty, that this was _why_ he was. And not because of Lydia at all.

Or maybe very much because _of_ her. He was not the ghost he used to be… And Beetlejuice had done something that no other before or since, had managed. To openly defy the ruling power of the neitherworld, and escape more or less unscathed. These days, that was something Prince Vince admired more and more… Whether he liked it or not.

He barely noticed as he took a second drink of the questionable liquor before him, at least not until it burned it way past his defenses, and made his eyes water with the sheer rancidness of it. All he did though, was wipe his eyes, push the bottle away, and proceed to thoroughly ignore his surroundings, well aware that Beetlejuice was doing much the same. Suddenly neither one willing to be the first to offer peace.

When the door behind them swung open though, he turned with a scathing command on his lips… Only for it to die at the sight of Lydia, standing there swathed in her usual waves of red, looking surprised to see him. For the moment at least, she hadn't even seemed to notice the other poltergeist… "What are you doing here?" She wondered aloud, moving to swipe the clinging veil of black from her eyes with a twist of her fingers.

He could ask her the same thing… But once again suspected that it had something to do with Beetlejuice. Who interrupted, before he could think of a proper reply. "Checking up on us, babes." The ghost muttered, smirking at some private joke. "'Cept, you know, you not being here, and all…"

Lydia slowly took her eyes from Vincent, turned them to Beetlejuice, then gradually, in her own time, around their surroundings. "You so don't belong here…" She mused under her breath, before turning back to the prince in question. It felt oddly like she'd just insulted him, for all that the words couldn't be argued as anything but true… But her lips were turned in a smile, softening the blow. "Checking up on me?" She echoed.

"That is…" Vincent mumbled, suddenly aware that he might have badly misstepped, infringing on the girl's time with her friend, which she'd always kept so separate from her time with him… If mostly at his own request. "I'd heard you were, assaulted by the press…"

"Bullshit!" Beetlejuice interrupted again, his green eyes gleaming this time, as his mouth cracked in a jagged smile. "I gauren-fucking-tee you, babes… His royal lowness there showed up when you weren't around, to tell me I'm some kind of bad influence on you!"

This wasn't why Vincent had come at all… Well, perhaps on some level it was… But more importantly, uttered by her best friend, Lydia was far more likely to believe it was true, whether it was or not. The prince, who of late had made a point of confronting anything and anyone without hesitation… Found himself at a loss for words.

Lydia though, just laughed, looking nothing like annoyed. "You _are_ a bad influence, Beej." She informed him, without batting an eye. "Come on, stop being an asshole. Vincent doesn't know your sense of humor like I do, he probably thinks you're serious…"

And as Beetlejuice just smirked, and started rummaging for another drink, Lydia came up with a little smile, just for him, and tucked into the prince's arm. "You seriously shouldn't be here though," She chided him gently, as the royal faltered uncertainly before putting his arm the rest of the way around her. "You know how much trouble people have shutting the hell up when it comes to a good story… And you and Beej, hanging out together in a dump like this?" An indelicate sound. "You'll never hear the end of it!"

He really couldn't dispute this, but wasn't given a chance as, in the next minute, Lydia drew away from him, hopped up o one of the ancient, rotting barstools, and regarded Beetlejuice with as serious an expression as he'd ever seen on her normally expressive face. "Hey." She murmured softly, as if only now greeting him.

Beetlejuice paused, in his latest useless attempt to get drunk, and lowered the bottle slowly, lifting a brow. "Hey." He muttered warily, clearly not sure where this was going.

"Sorry for ditching you." Her voice, soft enough to be a sigh. "_Real _sorry."

A grin quickly reclaimed the poltergeist's face, and he made a dismissive sound, turning back to his drink for several long seconds, before lowering the bottle again, and giving her a wild, amused look. "You know damn well I can save my own sorry ass, babes." He assured her, tossing the empty drink aside. "I was more fucking worried, abut what I'm gonna do, with you not needing me anymore!"

Lydia's eyebrows flew together, and she looked baffled. "Why wouldn't I need you anymore?" She puzzled aloud, sitting back on the stool a little. "Beej, I'm always going to need you. You're my best friend."

Interestingly, this seemed to shut the poltergeist up, and he just looked at the girl for a long, long moment, before grunting, and dismissing her words with a tease. "Yeah, babes. 'Cause you damn well know I'm the best, right?"

"Ghost with the most!" She agreed flippantly, making him grin against his will, before she swung back down to the floor. "I gotta get back before I get in trouble, you coming."

"Eh, later." He began examining the bottles along the far wall now, not giving the girl another glance, but unable to keep from grinning his ass off. "I'll let you know, babes."

Lydia made a small sound of acknowledgement, straightened her poncho, preparing to leave… Then paused, as if something had just now come to her mind, and turned, giving Prince Vince a slow, thoughtful smile. "So… Doing anything tomorrow?"

No use trying to keep everything in the shadows forever, after all…

----------------


	4. Revisited

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

-----------------

I realized, after posting the last chapter, that I'm not the first to suggest that Beetlejuice might like eating bugs because they taste alive. As a jke, as I wrote it... (See two chapters prior) Katra21 was the one I read it from. Sorry Katra. I wonder if I've done that before? I wonder how many times? Don't hate me people!

Also, I wrote this fic, as much as anything, because Vincent got the short end of the stick... I wanted him to get his chance. But as much as anything, I'm sticking with it, because it's _hard_. A challenge. Beej and Lyds is just natural... And some of it's gonna come across, no matter how I try to write it. But it's still coming along, without crossing a line, I think.

So, you've seen this chapter before... Almost. This is an AU, mind you. That means, this is how it _might_ have gone down. I find it fascinating, but feel a little guilty, like I'm cheating. See if you can find any spoken phrases the characters have used before! There's not many, but they are there... How well do you remember 'It Just Snuck Up?'

This is me of course, assuming you've read it... :)

----------------

Lydia woke to the smell of pancakes, filling her senses like the most wonderful alarm clock in the world. Lifting her head slowly, eyes still closed, she sucked the sweet fragrance in greedily, before stretching in her soft sheets, and finally, sleepily, braving the daylight to take a look around.

"Beej?" She murmured, a little absently, not really expecting the ghost to be there… And still, somehow disappointed when he wasn't. Running back to his latest little thing… Well, it wouldn't last. She knew damn well that she was the only one who could put up with him forever.

Dressing unhurriedly, suddenly quite secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't be disturbed, she modeled her soft red sweater in the mirror, briefly, before rolling her eyes, and making a little sound of amusement. God, no wonder the man thought she was still twelve… But what the hell was she supposed to do? Shaking her head, she grabbed the brush from her dresser, and ran the stiff bristles through her soft, careless mop, just enough to tease some semblance of tidiness from it.

Then she spent all of five minutes on her make-up, little semi-circles of soft grey making her look positively like death warmed over herself, with a stripe of black across her top lip, and a faint shadow across her cheekbones, making her look almost skeletal in the low light. She didn't know herself why she did it… She'd been experimenting with make-up for the first real time the year before, hit on this look, and just kind of stuck with it.

But maybe today… She narrowed her eyes at her reflection in the mirror, before her mouth turned with a sort of impish smirk, and she reached for the stick of dark _red_ lipstick she kept in the back of her top drawer. All but untouched, god only knew when she'd thought she would use it, she traced the smooth glossy finish, with exaggerated care, across her soft lower lip… And if she didn't look that much different, she still _felt_ sexy, putting it on.

Wouldn't Vincent get a kick out of her doing something different with herself for a change? She _was_ sort of a creature of habit… Bad habits, mostly.

Grimacing, she left her mirror behind, grabbed her jacket from the back of the door, and hurried out into the hall, and down the stairs. "Mm, Barb, it smells like _heaven_ in here!" She moaned, practically leaping the last two stairs in her eagerness to get the day started. "Please, _please_ tell me we have strawberry syrup!"

"Just maple." Barbara murmured apologetically, her mood oddly subdued compared to the evening before. "Maybe you can pick up some strawberry syrup for tomorrow though. I don't mind making them again." Lydia though, was only listening with half an ear, made aware all too suddenly by the heavy air in the room that something wasn't right here.

Goddamnit, today was going to be a good day, and the hell she was going to let her parents start it out with some dramatic family discussion… She didn't know what had been eating everyone's ass for the past few days, she hadn't asked and they hadn't offered, and as far as she was concerned, that was the way it should stay. Besides, it wasn't like _she'd_ done anything wrong…

Well, not that they could prove, anyway.

So while Barb was going on, saying, "If I'd known I was going to wake up hungry for them today…" And just as it was more than obvious that her dad was about to cut in-

Lydia beat him to it. "Oh, it's no problem!" She assured the ghost woman enthusiastically, snagging two steaming hot cakes off the top of the stack with her bare fingers, much to everyone's surprise. "I don't really have time for syrup anyway, and your pancakes are _always _good!

"Um…" Adam exchanged a look with his wife, cleared his throat, and turned back to Lydia, doing his best to look genuinely interested… And looking nothing so much as relieved, as if this was a discussion that he was all for putting off as long as possible as well. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, honey?"

For a minute the girl just stared at him, feigning astonishment, which she was actually pretty good at, before cracking a grin. "Extra curriculars!" She reminded him enthusiastically, before ripping off a chunk of pancake with her teeth, manners be damned. Beetlejuice would have been proud… She on the other hand, almost choked at the attempt. Eyes trying not to water, she went on without missing a beat, saying, "Nursing home! You know I volunteer there on Sundays!"

She used the brief break in conversation to make a bee-line for a glass of water, hoping to ease down the lump in her throat, when it hit her. Her dark eyes flashed with a mingling of guilt and inspiration… She _definitely_ knew a way to change the subject. Turning, glass still in one hand, pancakes in the other, she added, with the air of someone who has no idea the _vast_ importance of what they're saying… "Vincent's coming with me. Pretty weird for a date, right? Then we're…"

"What? Wait, hold on…" Adam held up one finger, indicating that she should slow down, but suddenly, inexplicably, was smiling. He was, she made a point of noting, the only one. "Did you say _Vincent_? _Date_?"

"Mm-hmm." Lydia regarded the situation before her with a sort of veiled calculation… She hated using the poor guy this way, but had the unshakeable sense that this was definitely the lesser of two evils sort of thing. "He's visiting Winter River so that we can spend the day together. After the nursing home, we're going to-"

"And you didn't think that this was something you should mention sooner?" Her father interrupted, somehow actually managing to look even less pleased than before.

Lydia gave him her most innocent, 'why, I wouldn't dream of doing anything you'd disapprove of, father,' expression, and replied guiltlessly, "No. Why? We're just going to visit the old folk's home, and then have a picnic with Bertha and Prudence. He hasn't seen them in over a year now…"

"You see?" Adam looked completely satisfied. "They'll be chaperoned the whole time, Edmond. And Lydia is almost sixteen… Most teenagers wouldn't even call that a date!"

Technically, the only reason Lydia did is because they were venturing into unknown territory, by being in the living world on a day that wasn't Halloween, but that was probably best left unexplained… And from the look on her father's face, it certainly wouldn't have made her situation better. Indeed, even Adam's cheerful attitude seemed to suffer under her father's frown, forcing the ghost man to direct his attention, rather pointedly, back to his newspaper.

Meanwhile, her father stood there looking disapproving… And clearly, visibly, trying to find a reason _why_ he disapproved, when Lydia and everyone else there knew that Vincent had never even so much as looked at her inappropriately, in all the years she'd known him. Of course, that didn't mean her father didn't still have legitimate reason, but the important thing here, which she was quite certain of, was that he didn't _know_ that.

_And never, ever will, if I have to lie to every one of them, every day of my goddamn __life__…_

"I don't like him." Her father said at last, with surprising bluntness. "I don't trust him, I don't approve of him, and it makes my hair stand on end when I know you're going to be alone with him."

After this, everyone just sort of stared. Olivia drank her coffee slowly. It was a tact that seemed to work, so Barbara did the same. Adam continued focusing on his newspaper. Not a goddamn one of them said a word in her defense… Or his. Even though she knew that all the rest of them all thought he was wonderful.

And this time, Lydia couldn't keep her mood from being dampened, just a little. She frowned, chewing slowly, to give herself a chance to just meet her disapproving father eye to eye, showing him that unlike the rest of the world, she was _not_ about to back down before a gaze that found itself matched in her own anyway.

At last, she had something to say. "Vincent's about the most decent guy I know." She said quietly, calmly, but with all attempts at pleasantries vanished. "The only way I could do better, is if I was dating…" She gestured carelessly to the side. "_Him_."

Adam blinked, looked up from his newspaper in surprise to realize she was referring to him, and started to protest, only to be caught off guard again, by a somewhat more tense version of her smile, and a short laugh. "And that would just be _weird_."

No one seemed to know what to say to this. Adam, his momentary shock gone, seemed to think it was flattering, grinning in embarrassment, now that he knew she was kidding. Barbara's hand was against her mouth in that way she had, that meant she was probably trying not to laugh… Her mother was actually the only one who outright seemed to have trouble not choking on her breakfast at her daughter's humor… An odd direction of respite for the goth girl, but well, beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Let her go, Edmond." Olivia giggled, reaching for her napkin, dark eyes dancing with humor. "At least we'll know where she is, and who she's with. That's better than either of our parents had. _And_," She added, just a little more pointedly now, as if the humor that had struck her so suddenly, had now faded just as quickly, "_I_ like the boy."

There was a little battle of wills after this, defined in the way her parents' gazes met, and amazingly to the girl, her mother didn't sway in the least under a challenge she'd seen grown men look away from. Her lips just thinned a little, still smiling. And she noted calmly, a moment later, "We can talk about the rest of it when she gets home."

The rest of it? Lydia returned to her meal, now a crushed handful of squashed sweetness between her fingers, with a little tingle of dread in her gut. Maybe she should have just gotten it over with now. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that bad. It wasn't like they'd found _out_… Right?

It was a little unnatural, how they all went back to eating their meal like nothing monumental had just happened, Barb and her mother discussing a new set of photos the woman was working on, Adam reading the obituaries, and Edmond quietly eating, listening to the women at the table with a sort of strained patience, and a mild curiosity. When Olivia looked up, and saw him watching her, she smiled.

And maybe it was Lydia's imagination, that something really big in the air seemed, different. _Wrong_.

"I gotta go." She muttered under her breath, discretely adding her wasted breakfast to the trash, in an effort not to hurt Barbara's feelings. Chugging her glass of water, she'd actually turned her back on the lot of them, and made it halfway out of the room, when her father interrupted her thoughts yet again.

"He can't even pick you up at your home, and let your parents know what's going on?"

"_I_ let you know what's going on, dad." Lydia pointed out, that quickly tired of her father's determination to wreck her mood, and turning on him with a tight set to her mouth, and cold eyes. She could only take so much, after all. With Beetlejuice around all the time, her patience was pretty much pressed to the max at any given moment… But at least _he_ was fun. "I may look like it, but I'm not twelve years old anymore."

With this, she turned and left, to Barbara's protests about how, no, she didn't look twelve… Lydia was in no mood to hear it. This was going to be a good day, goddamnit, and they could just take their sour moods, and shove them so far north…!

She broke into a run once she got outside, the bitter wind hitting her squarely in the face with little stinging kisses of residual ice, and she put her head down into it, determined go as fast as she could, until she wasn't angry anymore. Just burn it off. Her feet easily finding purchase on the slick ground, the cold touch of the wind just making her think of home…

And just when had she started thinking of it as _home_?

_No, too many thoughts, all at once. Run. Just run. _Until the pounding of her blood filled her ears, and her breath came short from the hard wind in her face… And the run. Run, until her legs ached from the sudden demand, and a stitch formed in her side from not bothering to breathe right.

And then just stand there, ankle deep in mud that chilled her in the bare place between jeans and socks, even though there shouldn't be a bare place at all. And breathe. And breathe. And feel hot from sweat formed under her clothes, and even the chill of the early spring air couldn't draw all the heat from her skin.

Slowly, Lydia took stock of her situation. It was early. _Really _early. She hadn't planned to leave yet for at least another hour or so. Vincent wouldn't be coming for a while yet. And Beetlejuice of course, was nowhere to be seen. Grimacing, oddly relieved from her run, as she knew she'd be, she reached for her jacket pocket, to see if she had any candies left, only to realize that she'd left her jacket at home, in her haste to escape.

Damn. And her macaroni salad too.

Lydia closed her eyes, took a few more deep breaths, and grimly, unhappily but with the sense that it had to be done, turned back up the road to her house.

Damn it. Just when she'd gotten away clean…

----------------

For the record, she hadn't broached the idea of her dead boyfriend coming to the living world, without some semblance of a _plan_… Or at least a hunch. See, Beetlejuice, despite his decidedly nowhere near normal-looking appearance, had come and gone nearly every day for the past three years or so, more or less without so much as raising an eyebrow.

She'd quickly learned in fact, that no one else saw the little oddities about him that she did… They just saw a decidedly grungy, perverted guy, that looked like he could stand to get more sun. The living had a habit of doing that… _Not_ seeing the little details that would force them to admit, if noticed, that what they were looking at, seriously didn't belong in their neat and orderly little lives.

Except maybe on Halloween, when it seemed to be okay.

And aside from a brief moment of unease when Vincent had entered the living world through the reflection in a plate glass window, which again no one chose to notice, it had seemed like her hunch was more or less right. No one gave either one of them a second glass. And for the first time in his afterlife, Vincent got to see her world still lit by the sun… And everything was good.

That is, until they actually reached the nursing home, and her theory promptly fell to shit. Oddly enough though, she was the only one who seemed to care…

"Lydia!" A gaunt looking fellow with a full head of white hair, and a thick rasp to his voice, waved at her over the head of the lady with the blue bouffant, who was busy fussing over an ever-increasing swell of cats around her ankles. "Bring that undead looking young man of yours over here, and join our poker game!"

"Undead?" Vincent echoed softly under his breath, looking rather nonplussed, though he followed her without reservation when she caught him by the hand, and led him to said poker game. And in a softer aside, "Lydia? I've never seen so many cats throughout the entire course of my life… What are they all doing here?"

"Shh!" Lydia snickered, drawing his arm unprotesting over her shoulders. "They're ghosts, most people can't see them!"

"Ah." Vincent agreed, after a moment's pause, as if this explained everything. When clearly, it did not. But he seemed to get the point that this wasn't the place to talk about it. "Are we invited to a game then, my Lydia? Do you know how to play? Perhaps you could explain the rules…"

Lydia rolled her eyes as the older men at the table, overhearing this, started chuckling and snorting to themselves, amid much elbow nudging. "Peg yourself as a novice then, go ahead… These guys'll clean you out." She grabbed a chair before he could draw it out for her, yanked it around, and met the eyes of the tallest of the men, with a little smirk. "No taking all my boyfriend's money here, guys. You know the rules."

To her side, a woman with bright blue eyes sniffed, to show what she thought of this. "You and that Beetleman fellow never seem to care either way for the rules." She pointed out, a bit tightly. "Either the ones about gambling, or the ones about cheating!" But then, just as her features grew really disapproving, her expression broke, and she grinned, winking devilishly. "Still haven't either one of you learned to cheat better than me, though, have you?"

The goth girl chuckled nastily, grabbing the deck of cards from the middle of the table. "Beej could cheat you up, down, and sideways… I guarantee, the only reason he let's you catch him cheating is because he's hoping to get on your good side!" Adding, in a little whisper, "He's got a thing for younger women. Tried to marry my mom once, when she was younger than me!"

And everyone laughed, and nobody really questioned it, and the nurses shot her dirty looks, and Vincent's lap was immediately claimed by a large ginger tom, the moment he sat down. He just sort of stared at it, a bit nonplussed. Like he wasn't sure what to do.

Lydia leaned over to him a little, murmuring, "You watch the game for a couple hands. We'll have you cleaning these old folks out of their pensions in a matter of hours." It was one of those rare moments when she was with the prince, that she forgot that she wasn't in _fact _talking to Beetlejuice instead… And Vincent's utterly baffled expression made her hard pressed not to fold over laughing. "Urm… Just watch."

It was in fact, against the establishment's rules to gamble… Money, anyways. But a matter of minutes had a small pile of prepackaged cookies, plastic baubles, flattened pennies, and yes, hard candies, between the card players determined to cheat the others out of their worthless little treasures. All the while, in a murmur, Lydia explaining the overall rules of the game, and the values of the different hands.

And Vincent watched it all, fascinated.

The lady with piercing blue eyes won that hand, and Lydia called her both a shark and a ringer, all in good humor of course, beckoning the prince to sit down next to her if he wanted, and join them in their next little game. As he would have taken his cards though, the man with white hair cleared his throat, and regarded him skeptically. "You got anything to wager, young man?"

For the space of a breath, Vincent looked put off step… And then, with a glint to his eyes that knew damn well he was about to do something that he probably shouldn't, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a slender, glistening gold chain, studded with tiny rubies. A bracelet that had probably cost more money than dead men like Beetlejuice made in a year. And all he said was, "I believe this is worth about… ten dollars."

Lydia had to bite her lip to keep from pissing herself, shaking with silent laughter… Until she met her boyfriend's gaze, and saw something there that surprised her, more than a little. Something, familiar. Something she swore she'd seen in her own gaze more than once, and in her best friend's, pretty much every day. The prince was looking to cause mischief… And seemed to be enjoying himself, at the prospect.

At the sight of the prince's pretty wager, several of the older ladies who didn't normally gamble, also pulled up chairs, and before she knew it, the biggest game the tired little nursing home had ever seen was under way. Those that weren't playing, were watching, sharply, hoping to catch someone cheating.

Grins, and furtive glances towards those in charge, as they engaged in something they weren't supposed to do. Serendipitously placed observers, to cut them off from the views of those in charge… Murmurs of interest. And much flirting, as women not playing, placed their interest in various men who were, hoping to receive the pretty prize… All in good fun, of course.

And Vincent, suddenly intense in a way she'd rarely seen, a way that made the air near him hum with energy, and made her pay far more attention to her boyfriend, than her hand. She was one of the first ones out, and she didn't even care. Vincent, who rarely showed any emotion but solemnity, was positively glowing with fascination as, one after another, the other players all folded. Until it was just him, and the lady with blue eyes.

She could have heard a pin drop.

Vincent stroked the tops of the cards slowly, something approaching a smirk oddly not out of place on his pale lips, as he regarded the old woman across from him without so much as blinking. Lydia had chills, more at the fact that this seemed so unlike the man she knew, than because she swore she felt icy blue sparks leaping across her skin from his nearness… And her head was spinning, because she'd never realized before that Vincent was really that _strong_. Maybe even as strong as Beetlejuice!

…Something she'd certainly never considered _before_…

And then the odd, surreal moment was over, much too quickly, as both players displayed their hands… And amazingly, it seemed that the prince had won, his first time out. And like that, he was now the proud possessor of a grand heap of junk, which suddenly he stared at like he had no idea what to do with it. That glimpse of something decidedly un-prince-like, gone.

But then the prince smiled, something he rarely did for any but her, and began gathering his little prizes, off to the side. With an innocence she would have sworn in anyone else, was staged, Vincent murmured simply, "Shall we play again?"

Lydia meanwhile, felt like her blood was still singing, like every nerve hummed with energy and glee, and before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed Vincent up from his chair, much to the poor ghost's surprise, threw her arms around him, and climbed into her own chair to plant a kiss squarely on her boyfriend's mouth. To his credit, the prince didn't protest… Though he had to be as puzzled as she was by her strange reaction.

They broke apart to sounds of laughter and applause, and Lydia drew her fingers across her lips, grinning, still tingling with that sense of excitement that had caught her so securely, at the brief glimpse of the prince's hidden self. Vincent did his level best to blush, and Lydia did her best to distract him from his embarrassment, this time by kissing him more demurely on the cheek.

As she drew back this time though, she paused, caught off guard by the look in the prince's eyes. Something even more than she'd seen there before… Something deep and passionate and lustful, burning from behind his dark gaze… Just a glimpse, almost missed, before he flicked his gaze back away, and looked sheepish, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

But that instant took Lydia's breath away, and made her skin tingle… And as much as the prince's sudden break from his usual deliberate distance, however brief… That surprised her. A lot.

A sort of breath of musing escaped her lips, without sound to accompany it, and she climbed down off her chair, her smile never faltering, though her heart thudded away nervously inside her. Who was this man, and what had he done with her boyfriend? _This _guy grew daring by leaps and bounds…! Even if he hadn't actually _done_ anything…

"Um…" She slowly realized they were still the center of much attention, even as some of the residents had drifted off to do something else, possibly in an attempt to offer privacy. One of the nurses though, possibly the head nurse, looked rather cross, and was headed in their direction… And still giddy with energy, Lydia followed her first impulse, grabbing Vincent by the hand, and booking towards the door, giggling all the while.

It wasn't until they were half a block away, Lydia offering no explanation for their sudden departure, other than laughing a little maniacally, that the girl swung herself around, abruptly blocking the prince's path with a grin. "You realize my parents are totally going to freak, if that gets back to them!" She informed him, not sounding the least bit worried. "You get your treasures?"

Vincent patted his pocket, though she hadn't seen him claim a one… She supposed that shouldn't really be surprising, if the guy was as strong magically as she now suspected. "Such a display would never have been tolerated back home…" He murmured, but despite this, Lydia suspected that the prince looked pleased. "I believe, if I had a heart, it would be racing!"

"You don't have a heart?" Lydia mused, eyes sparkling as she took him by the hand, and they started walking again. "Sure as hell could have fooled me…"

"Well, I don't need one…" Vincent began, in a way that indicated he was about to go into a lengthy explanation. "You see…" Lydia sighed, and shot the prince a tolerant look, which quickly shut him up, leaving him looking confused. "What is it?"

"Science lesson later," She murmured, leaning into his arm, and slowing her pace, just a little, "Just walk with me, okay?"

A small, oddly significant pause, then softly, "As you wish…" And nothing more. Still, she swore, as the wind licked briefly through her light jacket, and along her spine, that she heard more words, unspoken, whispering…

_Always__ as you wish_…

----------------

He was fucking _enjoying_ this. His pale little ex-bride-to-be squirming like a bug caught under a hot-light, at the mere mention of him. Juno, skirting around the issue as best she could, and trying not to cast a glance in the unseen poltergeist's direction, not seven feet to her left.

_Yeah, that's right you old bat, you know I'm here, I __know__ you know I'm here, but you still can't do shit about it, can you? _It was so good he wanted to freeze it, rewind, and watch it over and over again… Maybe with Lyds. He loved an appreciative audience, and the girl sure as hell would get a kick out of this!

True, the fact that Juno was there probably boded poorly for his little friend, since she did seem to be the reason the case worker had come… But that probably wouldn't happen for several minutes yet, and this… Well this was just _funny_.

"You mean he found someone to marry him?" Barbara was whispering in horror… Like it would be that fucking bad if he actually found someone willing to put up with his ass… Which, well, he supposed he had, actually…

"I _mean_," Juno was currently correcting, something almost dismissive in the otherwise dangerous words, "That the man has a way of finding loopholes in loopholes, and it was only a matter of time before he got something he set his sights on. That girl there was the exception, not the rule. You'd do well to remember that."

A weighted hesitation followed this, before Olivia, damn her straight to hell, looked up with these frightened eyes, somehow not a day older than when he'd tried to drag the girl down the aisle, and asked weakly, "Will he come back _here_?"

Beetlejuice sneered at her, not above a lingering trace of loathing for the woman who'd stabbed him in the back all those years before, even if it did lead to him eventually partnering up with Lyds. Like he was such a bad guy, or something… _Lyds don't think I'm such a bad guy_… He reflected, almost offended by how scared the bitch was of him. Even if these days, he would still juice her to shit, if he had half a chance.

Juno took a slow drag on her cigarette, met the woman's eyes with something between indifference and pity, and smiled a humorless smile. "I'm his keeper now?" Then, without waiting for a reply, "I suppose I am. Trust me, Deetz, there are some questions you don't want answered, until you have no choice. Either way," Another long draw, as her lips turned in something like a self-depreciating smirk, "I'm not at liberty to say more than I already have. I suggest just keeping your eyes peeled. The guy does not forgive and forget easily."

And on that rather unsettling note, which had the ghost with the most all twisted up in unheard laughter, the door chose that moment to swing open, and reveal Lydia on the other side… And she was not alone.

A flash of irritation crossed Beetlejuice to see the royal brat with her here too, in the living world, but far more interesting things were happening now, to dwell on it long. Lydia, clearly, did not expect to see Juno. Juno, likewise, did not expect to see the prince, looking almost disturbingly normal. And while there was little doubt in his head that his babes knew exactly where _he_ was, it seemed the royal twit had not clue he was anywhere around, when he damn well should. Idiot.

Lydia lowered her book bag, instinctively moving closer, not to the prince, Beetlejuice saw with something like satisfaction, but to where he himself was hovering by the staircase… Even, for an instant, flicking her gaze over to where he watched, questioningly, worriedly, as if he could assure her, there in front of Vinny and everyone, that she'd be fine.

"Okay…" She murmured under her breath, eyes quickly back firmly on the ghost woman with smoke pouring from her throat before them. Juno, for just about the first time he'd known her, looking nervous. "What's going on, guys?" She wasn't masking her own fear, nearly well enough… Something about that girl was different. More vulnerable. And hell if he knew why.

Personally, he blamed her boyfriend.

For a minute after this, no one spoke, each so caught up in their own unplanned reaction, that no one but him seemed to notice anyone else's. "Lydia," Adam interrupted the rather heavy silence at last, forcing a rather unhappy smile, "Um… Vincent. This is Juno. Our caseworker."

Prince Vince stared at the woman, an inescapable warning that she shouldn't be there, eyes cold and stone-like… But he didn't say a word. Juno, avoiding speaking as long as possible, as she weighed the young man's potential threat, against her pride in doing her job, without bending.

"Please," Juno rasped at last, making it somehow clear in a few shortly spoken words that she'd rather be anywhere else, "You say that like we haven't met before." She averted her gaze from the prince, and settled it squarely on Lydia. Something passed between them, a sort of understanding that was unusual for the normally unflinching older ghost… They'd each been served a piece of rotting flesh, being told it was soup. Now, for the sake of everyone there, they had to pretend it was soup.

Olivia was interrupting now, as he'd known damn well she would. "How exactly, have you met before?" She asked, a frown playing along her tight lips, before she seemed to realize again that Lydia had not, after all, come home alone. "Vincent, this is really sort of a family meeting. I think maybe you should come back another time."

Vincent turned his eyes, like brittle steel, to Lydia's mother, actually making her take a step back in surprise. "I have no intention of leaving." He informed her, his tone just a little too calm to match that dangerous gaze. "By all means," His attention flicked back to Juno, leaving Lydia's mother rather speechless, and looking like she wondered if she'd just imagined that little exchange, "Please, continue."

"Damn you to hell, boy…" Juno cursed under her breath, most likely too softly for the prince to hear, though Beetlejuice, from his nearer vantage point, heard her plain as day. Perhaps not surprisingly though, after this, the case worker went on like the royal wasn't even there, somehow avoiding those damning eyes. "That girl already has a file on my desk thicker than yours, woman." Juno informed her bluntly, not one to mince words, "But _you_ can relax, girl… For once, that's not why I'm here."

Lydia took this in… And slowly, her eyes lidded, becoming as guarded as they should have been all along. "All right," She agreed slowly, straightening a little, as if her unimpressive stature could somehow manage to become intimidating, "I'll bite. What's up?"

Juno took her own sweet time in answering, weighing maybe, the consequences of her next words, before she spoke them. "Some shit about you romanticizing death…" She muttered at last, more than a little under her breath, "But you and I both know that's bullshit, don't we, girlie? The real problem of course, is between you and your father… And the fact that he was never meant to have a damn thing to do with the dead."

Edmond looked, to say the least, both surprised and taken aback, and just stared for the length it took for this little speech, his jaw working soundlessly as he tried to find the words to protest. "Oh, save your breath, breather!" Juno snapped at him, when it became clear that he was finally finding the right words. "I'm only here because the Maitlands' went through the trouble of going through all the proper channels to get me here, otherwise I couldn't be bothered wasting my time!"

"_You_," And she pointed one bone thin finger at the man angrily, flashing blue eyes narrowed, "Are the one who has a problem with death, not the kid there! Your daughter doesn't idolize death, or whatever the hell you may think. She doesn't have a suicidal bone in her body, either. She actually has a very healthy approach to her own mortality, and in fact a lot of breathers would do well to be so well adjusted to the idea of living and dying, when god knows it can't be changed! And I guarantee you, I know a hell of a lot more about the subject than you do!"

Beetlejuice was a little surprised by the woman's outburst… She didn't usually get so emotionally involved in her own tirades. He wondered if it was more from the frustration of having been called there for no reason, and wasting her time, which she had to be used to, or maybe something the poltergeist wasn't seeing. Lyds' boyfriend being there? Yeah, the kid had more power than her, literally and otherwise, but this still seemed like a stretch for the ghost woman.

And then, all mysteries were revealed as, still deep in her rant, she spun on the girl next, this time utterly ignoring Prince Vince, as she demanded, "And what the hell are you trying to do up in that room of yours, kid? You shouldn't even _know_ symbols like that, much less be able to use them!"

Lydia's guard had dropped once more, she looked nothing but surprised, and utterly unaware where the ghost woman was going with this. "The symbols!" Juno snapped, clearly reaching the end of her tether. "On your goddamn canopy! Do you have any idea what you came close to-!"

And then she stopped, abruptly, closed her eyes, and shook her head. "No. Course you fucking don't. You shouldn't even have that kind of power… Damned if I know where you got it." A pause, and then an icy glance in her direction. "You're just lucky I found out about it when I did, girlie." And then she proceeded to smoke, enthusiastically, in an effort to say no more at all.

His babes just sort of stared at her, while Beetlejuice watched, one eyebrow raised. He'd known about the old runes of course… Hadn't known they actually meant shit. No one living should be able to have that power, like Juno had said.

Which also didn't escape the prince. "Are you saying," He prompted slowly, suddenly less angry, for reasons only his royal annoyance could fathom, "That dear Lydia is… a witch?" Everyone just sort of turned to him in surprise, not sure what to say to this. Vincent didn't seem to share that problem. "I have never met a _living_ witch before…" As if there were nothing odd about that particular little emphasis.

After what seemed like an eternity, Adam coughed, breaking the silence, and ran the back of his hand across his mouth, clearly searching for something to say. "I think," He said at last, a little slowly, "That Vincent should go home, and Lydia should go upstairs, while we discuss exactly what this means." Clearly, he hadn't thought much of the girl romanticizing death… But this seemed to concern him.

Before the prince could deny this, Juno, surprisingly, shook her head, and growled under her breath, "I've said all I'm gonna say. The girl's canopy will be replaced, and she knows damn well I don't have to do that… Just don't try to summon anything anymore, okay kid? I've got enough paperwork as it is…" And like that, without waiting for permission, she was gone.

At first, Lydia just stared at the place where she'd been… Then, ignoring everyone else there, she turned to Vincent, like nothing had just happened, and noted, with a slightly pressed smile, "So, I had fun today. Call me when you get home, and we'll figure out what to do next, okay?"

Slowly, Vincent too drew out of his thoughtful state of moments before, and turned to the girl. His face softened as her met her tired gaze, and his hands closed gently around her shoulders, as he leaned close enough to brush his lips against her forehead. It made Beetlejuice uneasy, seeing the closeness that sparked briefly between them in that moment. And he pushed it away, because he didn't want to think yet, about what would happen if he ever lost her to him.

"Goodnight, my Lydia." Vincent whispered, only slowly drawing away again. Lydia though, looked much stronger as he did, as if just this simply, some of his strength had passed into her… And well, the girl was pretty much the strongest Beetlejuice knew anyway.

Barbara was the only other one who said goodbye to him, and Vince inclined his head respectfully towards her in a nod, ignoring everyone else, before leaving, and closing the door behind him.

Lydia, on the other hand, didn't say a damn word to any of them, other than, "I so don't want to talk to any of you right now…" As she brushed past him, and started up the stairs… Her fingers closing with easy certainty around his invisible ones, and dragging him with her. Her dismissal it seemed, didn't include him. And that made him grin like he'd just found a nest full of butterscotch stuffed beetles.

Once the door closed behind them, the poltergeist looked visible, and seated himself on the edge of his babes' bed, patting the mattress beside him. Lydia plopped down, without hesitation, and leaned into his side with a little moan, surprising the ghost man for about thirty seconds, before he realized she was looking for comfort. _Then _he put his arm around her, slowly, wondering at how small she was, and whether the girl would ever get bigger. Not that it wasn't fine with him, if she stayed a kid forever…

"You know the neitherworld, right?" She murmured into his dirty jacket, fingers clenching his lapels. "Sandworms, mob bosses, possibly toxic edibles? _Your _crazy magic? None of that's gonna kill me. I know that now. My fucking _parents_ are what's gonna kill me."

Beetlejuice chuckled, and patted her head awkwardly. Damned if he knew how to make her feel better, other than being an ass. That was all she'd ever wanted before… But this seemed different. "I'll juice every last one of them, babes… Say the words. You know I'd love to anyway."

Lydia rolled her eyes up to him, and giggled, but didn't push away. "Beej, you're the fucking best, you know that, right?"

"Ghost with the most, babes!" He cracked flippantly, wondering where this was going. "Course, you already knew that… You being you, and all…" He still waited for her to draw away, but she didn't. Gradually, it occurred to him how warm she was, never mind being so small. It wasn't, bad, having her cling to him like this. He sighed, and wrapped his arm around her a little more, tucking the top of her head under his chin… And giving the girl an awkward hug. "Course, takes the best to know the best… Right, babes?"

The girl made a small sound of contentment, before finally pushing away from him, a full minute later, and fixing his eyes gratefully with her own soft brown ones. "I needed that, Beej." She murmured affectionately, "You can go back to being an ass now. And don't worry… I won't tell anyone you actually know how to be decent when you want to."

Beetlejuice snorted, and did his best to look offended. "Me, babes? Decent? Ain't no fucking way… Now!" And he put some distance between them, not sure himself why he was so uneasy being next to her. "I want _details, _babes… Don't make me read your goddamn diary to find out what the hell happened between you and old prince-arino!"

Lydia gave him a little, fiendish smile. "Beej…" She murmured, teasing him with her innocent tone, "Do you really think I'd put anything in there, that I didn't want you reading?"

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	5. Insight, Almost

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Hmm, still not many followers of this story. And that sucks, because AU or not, it _is_ part of the continuity. Different glimpses give ideas of things that haven't changed, even among the things that have. It seems like it'd be fun to pick out which is which. Like the whole thing where Beetlejuice gave Lydia his beetle pendant in 'Lydia was Late?' And then we found out it's origin in 'Lydia was Early?' I'd like to think it's like that. The pendant is one of the things that doesn't change. It's not the only one. But any insight that this particular fic reveals, will probably be lost on many of my readers, because they don't like the 'ship, and won't give the fic a chance.

I have no idea why I'm ranting about that here though, since if you're reading, you're not one of those who isn't. Um, by definition. Just needed to clear the air. And I shouldn't complain, I'm still getting wonderful reviews from people who seem to enjoy the fic. But when I had two more planned to follow this AU... I can't help but wonder if people are really that interested, in what _might_ have happened next.

Oh well, if this falls through, I do have more ideas... Um, sorry to rant. Just needed that.

Btw, Arlequina3000 was the only one to make any guesses concerning the 'familiarity' of the last chapter. Most were right. Heh, even one _I_ missed.

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The mood in the house had changed, no doubt due to what had happened the afternoon before, and for once, Lydia actually had good reason for wanting to make herself scarce… Well, other than her usual reasons. But then she just sort of stood outside the front door, bag hanging from her arm, as she gazed up at a steel gray sky. As she'd been for the last five minutes. Putting off a walk to school that she dreaded more with every passing day.

After Claire Brewster had graduated, it had been a blessing. But then, before she knew it, Prudence and Bertha were graduating too, and her brief interim of being happy at the private girl's school had vanished… Along with pretty much any chance of making new friends, even among the incoming freshmen. Because by this point, the reason the other students didn't mess with her, was because they were scared of her. Just a few too many weird things happening, to people who'd made a point of making her an enemy…

And now even the popular mean girls that had taken Claire's place, pretended like she was beneath their notice, even as they watched her from the corner of their eyes. No one talked to her. Except for the teachers, she might not even be there. And while once, she would have thought that was better than being constantly bullied… Now, _now_, she really hated going to school.

With a semi-graceful swing, Lydia heaved her backpack in a smooth semi circle, catching it with her shoulder, and letting it fall along her back. She stuck her tongue out at the unhappy sky, flicked it off, as if daring it to rain on her, and started off down the road. It wasn't like it really mattered if she had friends at school, she was there to learn. And once class got out? She had _tons_ of friends. Even if most of them were dead.

Her mood softened a little, on her way down the long drive. With the sounds of newly arrived birds, and amorous tree frogs, and the smell of flowers in the air, even she couldn't maintain a good funk… And yet it wasn't really banished until the Winter River Bridge came into sight, and standing there, half hidden by shadows and probably trying to make her jump out of her skin, lurked her favorite filthy poltergeist, somehow uniquely unmistakable to her sharp eyes.

Letting out a little squeal of joy, Lydia dropped her backpack, and ran straight at him, tackling him hard around the middle, and almost making him go down… Certainly making him grunt in humor, and possibly pain. "Shit!" He cackled under his breath, as she buried her face in a ragged checkered shirt, and breathed deeply of his comforting presence. "What the hell, babes? Trying to jump my bones here?"

"Who, is _that_?" A brittle voice interrupted, making Lydia blink, and draw back, only to realize that her 'sharp eyes,' had somehow missed the fact that Beetlejuice wasn't alone.

The tall woman, with far more curve to her than Lydia was likely to ever have, and a short brown wave, was looking at her with the unmistakable look of a woman who has suddenly found reason to complain. Beetlejuice grinned, sort of cheesily, though the look faded quickly as he shot the younger girl a clear plea for help. "Just, uh, Lyds… Friend of the family, all that…" It probably didn't help that he hadn't quite let go of her yet.

Lydia watched as the stranger's lips thinned, in something like a smile, as she clearly tried to pretend she wasn't upset by what seemed to be her date, hugging a teenage girl… That fact might escape Beetlejuice, but then, he was kind of oblivious where she was concerned. This stranger, was clearly not. "Nice to meet you… Lyds." The woman offered, with a forced pleasantness.

"Lydia." The goth girl corrected her, without pause, as she finally released her grip on the poltergeist… Even if he seemed more than happy to cling to her like some kind of drowning man to a lifeline. "Only Beej calls me Lyds." She made no effort to make nice, considering the woman through her haphazard veil of bangs, no effort to smile. "So who are you supposed to be?" She didn't even think before she said it… She knew damn well who the woman was, after all, but she'd never been forced to come face to face with her best friend's conquests before. It made her edgy, being forced to realize they were real…

Her response should have made Beetlejuice flinch, but instead he just sort of snorted into his fist, and looked elsewhere, like he had no idea the exchange was taking place. Lydia took that as a sign that she could take the gloves off… And that was fine with her. Not that she didn't want the guy to be happy with someone, but this plastic doll? So not his type.

Bristling instantly as she saw how this would go, the tall woman glared at Lydia scathingly, before offering a little, almost feral baring of teeth. "I _happen_ to be BJ's girlfriend." She noted smoothly, now obviously taking Lydia as a real threat… Especially when she turned to her 'boyfriend' for support, and found him pointedly looking anywhere else, and trying not to look amused.

Lydia's eyebrows flew up. BJ? Well, she supposed that did make sense. "Uh-huh." She mused, pulling her fingers through her hair, in an attempt at showing just how interesting _that _was. "That's great… Someone's gotta keep him occupied. God knows he's not gonna spend all day waiting for me to get home from school." A humorless little twist of her lips, as something that sparked in the other woman's expression, showed she'd gone just a step too far. "Anyway, I gotta head out. See you later, Beej." Then, with her first _real_ low blow, "Try not to get bored with this one too fast."

Beetlejuice's 'girlfriend' looked too stunned to be angry… For upwards of ten seconds. Then, as Lydia turned her back, all the while ready for an attack from behind, she spun on the poltergeist, ready to demand an apology. "Did you hear what she just said to me?" She snapped, just a trace of a desperate plea there, that said she was suddenly afraid that the goth girl knew what she was talking about. "Are you just gonna let her talk to me like that?"

The ghost with the most blinked slowly, turned his head to look at the woman, and managed a little, careless grin. "Hell, lady. Babes there is just calling them like she sees them. I ain't gonna argue with the girl on shit anyway… She's got my balls over a barrel, you know?" Then, to Lydia, "Hey, Lyds? You, me, a big jug of something cold, and the old timer wrestling channel, what do you say?"

Before Lydia could answer, and assure him that she was in fact free, a little, angry shriek came from the woman with him. "_What_?"

Beetlejuice drew a cigarette from his pocket, nonchalantly, and started fumbling for a match. "Don't worry about it, doll." He dismissed her concerns, trying not to crack a little smile as he ducked his head to light it. "Babes there and me? We got an understanding. She knows I ain't worth shit, and she don't try to change me. Works out real well for both concerned."

By this point, his date was just standing there, fists clenching and unclenching, jaw slightly dropped, as if she couldn't quite grasp the exchange going on in front of her. "You…" She managed at last, in a rasp, "And that _child_?"

At this, Beetlejuice suddenly seemed to finally take a real interest in the conversation, looking angry. "What the fuck, you some kind of sicko?" He drew the cigarette from his mouth, and gave her absolutely the most dismissive glance Lydia imagined that he had in his repertoire. "Even if she _was _old enough, you think Lyds is stupid enough to waste time on an asshole like me?"

Then, in a slightly mollified voice, though she couldn't have said what calmed him, "Go on, get the fuck out of here. I'm gonna walk her to school." Then, just in case she hadn't gotten the hint, "Three's a crowd, toots."

And as if the woman weren't even there, he swung his arm around Lydia's shoulders as she made it back to where he was standing, and started walking along with her, not even giving his 'ex-ghoul,' a second glance. Lydia still half expected to be attacked from behind. Beetlejuice took a deep draw, before flicking his cigarette away, even these unable to interest him for long, and hissed between his teeth, "Thank the _fuck_! Broad couldn't get any clingier if she was made of friggin plastic wrap! I've been trying to duck her ass since Friday, but the chick couldn't take a hint!" He glanced down at her now. "I owe you one, babes."

"Again." She agreed, with a tolerant grin. "Not that I thought she was your type, or anything… But what was wrong with this one, Beej?"

"Hrmph." He flicked something out of his teeth with his free hand, looking bored. "Woman couldn't just have a fucking good time, and leave it at that! Wants to start introducing me to people, wants me to start buying _sensible _clothes, or some shit. Started acting like we were supposed to be exclusive, or something…" He paused, making a flamboyant gesture towards himself. "_I_ don't remember agreeing to that! Where the hell do these women come up with these things?"

"Huh." Lydia shook her head, wondering why anyone would ever expect anything lasting from her best friend, unless it benefited him more in the long run. "Well, you know, you were right about one thing, Beej. You _are_ an asshole." The poltergeist paused, and gave her a short look. Lydia stopped too, sighing, and cast him a patient glance. "But I don't remember _ever _thinking that you weren't worth shit."

A slow, pleased look crossed his eyes, and he grunted, accepting that without too much skepticism, before tugging her onward again. "Well hell, you're probably the only one that _don't_ think so… But I ain't gonna argue with you, babes. Every time I try arguing with you, I always end up paying for it… One way or another." Usually in some half assed bar, trying to pretend he was mad at her, and not himself…

Lydia didn't draw away from him, which was kind of nice, not that he'd ever admit it to the kid. And the day was just the kind he liked, good and overcast. Gloomy, and filled with power… Made him feel alive. Not that he had any idea what that was like.

"So, Lyds." He pulled off his grimy cap, the one the broad back there had hated so much, and dropped it on the girl's head, making her laugh, and pull it down over her eyes a little, like there was nothing strange about it. Kind alike she really was still a kid. "What do you think Vinny's going to do about your old man?"

Her laughter stopped, abruptly, and she lifted her head, meeting his eyes with her suddenly serious brown ones. "You think he's going to do something?" She asked quietly, taking this as more of a problem than he'd expected. "Like what?"

Beetlejuice struggled for a moment with his answer, wanting to offer something flippant, or jokingly cruel, but something in the girl's willingness to believe, made him wonder if he really was kidding. He'd heard some pretty wild rumors around the neitherworld, lately…

"Well," He mused, slowly, giving this a sort of serious consideration he hadn't intended, when he'd brought it up, "Guy'd do just about anything for you, kid. Don't figure your dad for being in _danger_… But the prince ain't gonna like the man getting in his way." Another pause, as he admitted something that he wasn't sure yet what he thought about either. "Prince-arino ain't gonna let shit get in the way of you two being together. 'Cept maybe if you suddenly changed your mind, or something. But hell, you'd have to be crazy to do that!"

Lydia didn't answer. Or immediately agree. Instead, when he looked down at her, she seemed lost in thought. Finally, just offering another noncommittal, "Huh," under her breath. And nothing else.

Beetlejuice didn't like this weighted silence, and tried to pick up the conversation where it'd left off. "You know, actually, not that I like the kid, or anything… But I figure, you? You're pretty good for him. Shaking things up a bit in his afterlife. Being born a Royal? I gotta tell you, that ain't worth shit sometimes."

He finally had Lydia's attention, and was now kind of just rambling, wishing she'd jump in, and he could shut up, before he said something stupid. "Gotta fit a mold that your family picks out for you, and god forbid if you don't… They'll make your afterlife a living _hell_. Now me, I wouldn't take shit from them…"

"You wouldn't," Lydia agreed, seeming to recover from whatever concern had struck her for a moment there, "Would you?" A short laugh, this one genuinely amused. "Can you imagine if you were born a Royal? You'd break up those stiff-necked losers like a friggin two by four through glass!"

Beetlejuice couldn't help but cackle softly, giving her a squeeze, before pushing her away, good naturedly. Lydia just caught his arm, and hung on. "You think that, guess you really don't know what that boyfriend of yours is up against, babes!"

"Hmm." Lydia seemed to turn introspective again, but this time, without the worry that had accompanied it before. "Hey, Beej? Um…" He glanced down at her, waiting for whatever bomb she was going to drop now… The girl always did have a habit of catching him off guard. "You said you'd keep a secret, right?"

The poltergeist snorted. "What? You believed me?"

Lydia lifted her head, pushing back his brimmed hat, and looked as serious as he'd ever seen her, even if she was still smiling. "Yeah." She mused, a little self-rebukingly, "I do. Pretty stupid, right?" After this, she said nothing. There were people and buildings around them now, they didn't have the privacy they'd had only moments before, and as usual, they got a few odd glances. Not exactly the kind of place to be telling secrets.

"So, what?" He prompted at last, curious despite himself. "You're gonna spend years writing a whole diary of bullshit, and _now_ you wanna bare your soul to me, Lyds?" He waited for a smartass reply. She didn't offer one. Was something bugging the kid? "Fine. I'll bite." He grunted, rolling his eyes, "What's up, babes?"

Her answer was so soft, that at first he didn't hear it. "Vincent, kissed me." He took a minute to soak this in, doing his best not to fall on his ass laughing, but couldn't quite banish the mad little grin cracking his features. What? A fucking kiss? She thought that was some kind of big deal? Well, probably her _first_ kiss, and well, chicks did take that kind of thing seriously at her age…

He completely missed the next part of what she was saying, and in fact, had to pause, and realize that wasn't all she'd said. He wondered if the next little snippet of gossip would be as entertaining… Though hell knew the tabloids would eat something like that first part _all_ up. "What's that, babes?" He prompted, not at all ashamed that he hadn't been paying attention. "Missed something there… Say it again?"

Lydia nodded, slowly, before repeating what she'd said a moment before, not even rebukingly. "Vincent said he loves me." She repeated softly, making the poltergeist stop in his tracks, again, and stare at her, not certain he'd heard right.

"Well, hell babes," He offered at last, a little uncertainly. "That's a good thing, right? I mean, you broads eat that stuff up, right?"

The goth girl cast him a frustrated little glance, finally pulling his hat from her head. A moment later though, it softened, as without a word, she handed it back to him. He couldn't figure out, for the death of him, what was eating the kid. He scratched his wiry, greasy hair, sighed, and put the hat back in its place. "Well hell, what, you want me to beat the shit out of him for it? You know I'll do it…" God he hoped she didn't call that bluff.

But Lydia just smiled, looking oddly appeased, and shoved his arm off her shoulder. When he would have sniped at her about how his offer wasn't good enough, Lydia gestured around them. "We're here, Beej. And this is the last place you need to be seen hanging on me." Then, belatedly, "_Second_-to-last place."

Beetlejuice took a slow look around, surprised at how quickly they'd arrived at her school… Then grunted, adjusted his coat, and flicked his tongue across his top lip, admiring some of the 'scenery.' It wasn't just for Lyd's sake that he liked walking her down here… _Goddamn, there ought to be a law against those little skirts… Sure as hell glad there ain't though!_

She was almost gone from sight, when it occurred to him, belatedly, that all the girls she was heading off with, were much taller than _his_. "Hey, babes!" He yelled after her, making her stop, and shoot him a quizzical look. "How old are you these days, anyway?"

For a moment, Lydia looked like she didn't know how to answer… Then abruptly, laughed, like he'd said something funny. "Like _you_ give a damn, Beej!" She snorted, waving over her shoulder at him, as she continued into the building.

"Huh." Beetlejuice was left looking after her, wondering what the hell that was about… Then shrugged, chuckling to himself. Who was he kidding? He _didn't_ give a damn. Lyds was just, Lyds. That's how it'd always be. It wasn't like he was going to start thinking of her as just some skirt to chase, just because she started getting some meat to her, or something…

"Whatever, babes…" He muttered to himself, fading into the energy he carried with him like a shadow, to carry him to wherever he was going next. "Think you know me so goddamn well…"

And then he was gone.

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Barbara had taken up sewing at some point over the past few years… Probably because Lydia was so adamant about learning, and it just seemed like a natural way to spend time with the girl, without butting heads. Now that the girl was older, less volatile, Barbara found other reasons to keep doing it. Largely because she still had more than a century to go, before she and Adam moved on to… Whatever it was they would be moving on to.

But at the moment, the soft black flannel went more or less unnoticed in her lap, as she repeatedly pricked the finger of her opposite hand with the tip of her needle, the tiny injury no longer even enough to cause pain. She gazed past it, soft mouth formed into a frown. Adam, methodically painting tiny strips of drywall before he assembled them, waited for her to say what was on her mind. Glancing at her, over his glasses, before reaching for an epoxy.

"Adam…" The ghost woman interrupted suddenly, making him forget the sealant, and turn all his attention on her, however briefly, "I'm worried about this."

"About, Lydia." Adam hazarded, appearing to turn his attention back to his work, but in reality, completely focused on both what she was saying, and what she wasn't. "I know, I'm worried too Barb… This whole thing about, being a witch?" He proceeded to clean his brushes, not noticing that the ones he was tending were in fact, already clean. Even dry. "That's a lot of responsibility for a girl her age. Although," A brief pause, and a bemused chuckle under his breath, "It does explain a lot."

"Like, all that stuff that happened to that Claire girl." Barbara agreed, finally seeming to notice her attempt at self mutilation, and setting the whole sewing effort aside on the coffee table, as she considered her husband with what she was certain was misplaced amusement.

"We both know how difficult she was making life for our Lydia…" Adam agreed, just a trace more vengefully than she would have expected from the man. "Though I have to say, I don't believe she was doing those things deliberately, no matter how much the girl deserved it." He shot her a short glance, adding, "That bit with the unearthed graves…"

Barbara reflected that her former body, as well as her husband's, had probably been among those exhumed that night. As she did whenever the topic came up, even though she never admitted as much. It made her uneasy… It had to be expected though. If simply walking on someone's grave gave them chills, after all, what did digging them up do?

"I agree," She murmured, biting the tips of her fingers, "Lydia has too much respect for the dead to do that." A glance towards her husband. "It still might not have even been her."

"Then who, Barb?" Adam gave up all pretenses of being distracted, and put his tools down, crossing the distance to his wife, and crouching beside her chair. Leaving him almost kneeling beside her. "I have the feeling that this is just the sort of thing we're going to have to get used to, until Lydia understands her powers a little better."

His wife looked at him, with a look of worry, and pressed patience. "She's living, Adam. She's not even supposed to have powers!"

Slowly Adam nodded, accepting this fact. "Be that as it may…" He agreed, gently, "I don't think Juno would lie to us. Especially not where Lydia is concerned. You know how uneasy she is, with us even having anything to do with the living, now that we're…" He hesitated, gesturing absently. "You know."

It still wasn't easy to accept, all these years later. Neither one of them _felt_ dead… Even though the world had moved on without them, and if they had still been alive, they would now be well into middle age, rather than the newly wed young couple they still felt like. If they _had_ had children, they would be grown. All in all, Olivia and her daughter accepted their friends' ghost status better than they did.

As if they could still walk out the door, whenever they wanted. As if, not a minute had passed, since they'd died… Not _really_.

"I know." She agreed softly, leaving it at that, and finding that she really had nothing more to say on the matter. But then, after a long moment… "What about Edmond?"

Adam's mood couldn't have changed faster if she'd mentioned that damned bioexorcist from twenty some years before. "What about him?" Even if he'd tried not to show it, he'd taken the man's interference to heart… And Juno's assurance that the girl did in fact, not have a problem concerning her views on death, made Edmond's fears seem just a little more personal.

Barbara smiled, wanly. "I don't think he likes us anymore, Adam."

"I'm not sure he ever liked us." Her husband muttered, rising, but not moving away… Like he was sort of hovering protectively over the woman he loved. "I'm not sure he wasn't just pretending he did. You heard Juno… He was never meant to deal with the dead."

"Then he shouldn't even be able to see us." Barbara scowled, leaning back into her husband's arm, feeling slighted. "I mean, that's what the rest of the living do, when they can't handle the dead. They just don't see us."

"Well, he couldn't see us at first, remember?" Adam dropped a light kiss into his wife's sweet-smelling mop of brown curls. "Not for more than a year. If that wasn't a sign that he wasn't supposed to…" He looked down at his wife, who looked like she had the burden of the world on her shoulders. "What's really bothering you, honey?"

At first, Barbara refused to answer. She just clung tightly to his arm, now draped protectively around her chest, and buried her face into the fabric of his sleeve. But then, finally, so softly, "Adam… I don't want us to be alone again. What if Edmond wants everyone to leave? Do you really think Olivia and Lydia will choose _us_ over him?"

Adam stiffened against her. This hadn't even occurred to him yet. "They… wouldn't leave us, Barbara." He denied at last, softly. "This is their home. We're their family."

His wife drew from his arms, just a little, just enough to look up at him, and meet his own uncertain gaze, revealing the lie there. "So is he." She murmured, before drawing back into his embrace. This time Adam closed both arms around her, tightly, and they remained that way, trying to draw comfort from each other.

Before Olivia had appeared in their lives, it had seemed like enough, just to have each other, and let the rest of the world go on without them. But now… losing those two would kill them. Again.

It was very easy to suddenly hate the man who, only days before, he'd considered family.

Before either of them could dwell any further on this, the door across the room swung open, and Lydia swept through, pushing her wet hair from her face, considering the room around her with a frown… Before her gaze landed on Barb and Adam, and her annoyed features swept up in a smile.

"Friendly faces!" She swore under her breath, like it was some kind of prayer. "I swear, I could walk through this world day in and day out without seeing any, if it weren't for you two!"

It was an odd welcome from the girl, but not an unwelcome one. Barbara twisted from her husband's arms before he could think to let go, grabbing their foster daughter with both hands, and pulling her into a tight hug, making the girl squeak in surprise. "Oh honey…" Barbara murmured enigmatically. Like they'd just been apart for such a long time, and the girl hadn't just been at school.

At first Lydia just sort of stood there, uncomfortable, and uncertain what to do… Before she shrugged, and accepted that the woman was feeling unusually emotional today. That was fine. She might need an excuse these days to get all close and mushy with her lifelong friend, but that didn't mean she didn't still love the feeling of, well, a mother's hug.

Besides, she loved the way Barb smelled… And it definitely improved her mood, enforcing the idea that someone trapped in that godforsaken land of the living actually did give a damn about her.

But when it became clear that the ghost woman really had no plans of letting go, Lydia had to finally put her foot down, and firmly push her back to arms' length. She was a little surprised by the wet look in Barbara's eyes… Not like she was crying, but certainly like the idea had occurred to her. "Hey, are you all right?"

Barbara laughed, a little tightly. "Oh honey, I'm just…" She shook her head, looking bemused. "I'm fine." She wiped her eye with the back of her hand, despite the lack of actual tears, and managed to look a little more pulled together. "How was school, sweetie?"

"I hated it." Lydia assured her, grinning, "But now I'm home, and I don't have to worry about it for another day, so all's good."

"That doesn't include homework, right young lady?" Adam pressed, looking tolerant, but asking the questions any good parent should. "Because you've been doing very well with your grades, and I don't want to see that stopping anytime soon!"

Lydia smirked, trying not to roll her eyes. Good grades were the best way to keep everyone off her back, and convinced she was staying out of trouble. No way she was going to let them slip. "Yes, _dad_…" She teased him, pausing at how her jest seemed to abruptly sober the man, as if she'd hit a nerve.

She looked from one to the other, wondering what the hell those two had been talking about while she'd been gone, only to hit on one inevitable answer. "This is about the whole 'witch' thing, isn't it?" She demanded bluntly. Both parents looked surprised, but not completely denying it. Lydia frowned, debating her next words. They should make the Maitlands smile, but be as noncommittal as possible. "If I promise to try not to turn anyone into toads, will you two lighten up?"

Despite himself, Adam's lips twitched in a smile, and even Barb's look softened, with something like relief. Lydia had figured it would be something like that… If she wasn't weird about it, then they weren't going to be either. "Well, we'll hold you to that promise, Lydia." Adam scolded mockingly, coming closer, and giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, before adding, in a softer aside, "Unless we _need_ someone turned into a toad, of course. You would offer your services in that case, right?"

The girl grinned, just a little fiendishly. "Well, if we wouldn't get _caught_… I'd probably do just about anything for you two." And again, for reasons she didn't understand, her choice of words seemed to sober the both of them.

But that was about all the energy she had towards trying to decipher the ghost couple's odd mood swings, because she'd had a really long day, and the only thing that would make the whole mess worthwhile was a big bowl of eye scream. She gave them a slightly tired smile, and swung her backpack back up, finally moving away from the two. "I'm just gonna drop my books off upstairs, and change, and then I'm heading off for a while. Do you two need anything in town?"

"No, honey." Adam assured her, after a brief moment of looking disappointed. "Don't forget an umbrella." Then, almost too unconcernedly, "You won't be gone long?"

"Long enough to pick up something sweet and cold, and then maybe stop at the candy store." She answered honestly, wondering again what it was she was missing. "Two hours, tops. Home in time for dinner, I promise." She'd almost accomplished her escape, and yet stopped, halfway up the stairs, looking down at the two, who were still watching her go. She should probably leave it at that, but… "You guys sure everything is okay?"

Adam and Barb exchanged glances, promising that whatever they said next would almost certainly be, at the very least, a minor alteration of the truth. "We're sure, honey." Barb murmured at last, casting her a slightly worn smile. "You go have fun. Just be sure you're back before dark."

Lydia almost turned back up the stairs, _almost_, then hesitated, and looked back down at the two people she trusted above any others. "You guys, want to catch a movie when I get back?" She offered suddenly, not sure herself why she thought misery would love company. "I got most of my homework done during study hour, so it probably won't take long to whip through the rest…"

Barbara looked not only relieved, but maybe even just a little excited. "Oh Lydia, that sounds wonderful…" She gushed, squeezing her hands together, as if in brief thanks to some higher power. Lydia wondered why now, something like a movie should be so important. "An old movie. One of those black and white monster flicks you love so much!"

"Sure." Lydia's mouth was twisted in a small smile, a little surprised to find she was actually looking forward to it. "But uh…" She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. "I gotta go get ready, if I'm gonna be back by dinner."

"You go ahead, Lydia." Adam assured her, dropping his arm affectionately across his wife's shoulder. "Have fun… Don't worry about us!" Which seemed, in her opinion, like an odd thing to say. Like maybe she _should_ be worrying about them.

No sooner had the bedroom door closed behind her, then Beetlejuice faded into sight, with an exaggerated stretch, and a disgusted grimace. "God, those two are a couple of pansies!" Then he frowned, regarding Lydia from the corner of his eye. "So what the hell, babes? Thought we were catching the late night horror flick in the neitherworld tonight! You know, to celebrate my newfound freedom… It's practically a tradition!"

It was true. Beetlejuice would disappear for days at a time whenever he got a new ghoul, but the minute he dumped her, he pretty much spent every spare second by Lydia's side, like the two were attached at the hip. Like he'd _missed_ her, or something. And while _all-the-time-Beetlejuice _was pretty much the most fun she could think of…

"Come on, Beej…" She cast him a little, tolerant smile. "You know that I end up spending all my free time these days with you or Vincent. It'll be good to hang out with them for a while. Besides," She frowned, pausing with her hand on the top drawer of her dresser. "I kinda think they need this. Not sure why."

"Oh, sure Lyds, what _they_ need… I'm the one that doesn't have a hot bit of living flesh lusting after my grimy body anymore, and you're worried about what _they_ need…" He rolled his eyes, and grunted, crossing his arms. "So, what… One movie with them, and _then_ we take off for the neitherworld?"

Lydia, her worried mood scattered by the best friend who knew her _so _well, turned back to him with a grin, eyes dancing. "Well, duh."

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	6. Nothing As Planned

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine. Breaking Benjamin? Not mine. Bowie, Ozzy? Not mine.

Mmm... Bowie...

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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So, overwhelming flood of encouragement. :smile: I get it guys, in fans, it's quality, not quantity. You're all reading this for your own reasons, but in the end, you like my work.

:hugs: Thank you.

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Music pounded through the air, desperate, demanding, drowning out all ideas of life beyond the goth girl's room, an almost tangible barrier between her, and anything she didn't want to acknowledge at the moment. This was the best way to do homework.

_I want a normal life. Just like a newborn child. I am a lover, hater. I am an instigator…_

The tune fell from between her lips too, like a hiss, in starts and stops, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, eyes narrowed as she considered the numbers before her. She'd been staring so long, she swore they tried to move when she looked away… Just two more days. Two more days of school, and then the weekend. Sometimes she only survived this crap, knowing there _was_ a weekend.

_You are an oversight. Don't try to compromise. I'll learn to love to hate it. I am not integrated…_

There. That was the last of it. Lydia closed the book with a sense of vindication, like it was some kind of battle between her and her teachers, trying to get in the way of her fun… And once more, she'd emerged victorious. The damn homework was done.

Now she could do whatever the hell she wanted.

_Just call my name… You'll be okay. Your scream is crawling through my veins…_

'_Click.'_ Off went her CD player. She stretched slowly, until her fingertips pointed backwards over her head, and sighed, relaxing again just as slowly. Okay, that was a hell of an assignment. She had maybe an hour left, tops, before it got dark. Beetlejuice of course, having made himself scarce almost two hours before… Willing to stand by her side before neitherworld cops, rogue magic, and even her boyfriend, but clearly drawing the line at waiting for her to finish her homework.

It was actually too bad. She didn't know why, but that song always reminded her of him… A little. The beginning at least. And he was never around when it was playing. Making a little sound of acceptance with her tongue, she pushed her books away, and stood, grimacing at a twinge in her back, from bending over her work so long. At least she had a desk now…

Running her fingers through her hair, she cast a long glance around the room, frowned, and made a mental note to tidy up. Just, later. It was already almost six… She had a date. And she still had to get ready.

But this time, she had her clothes laid out ahead of time. Dark blue jeans, a form fitting t-shirt of navy blue, with a matching scrunchie, and her black 'bat-buckle' belt, with matching earrings. She almost never wore earrings. Then, she almost never wore her hair up either, and she was. Sort of. But this time, she was forsaking make-up… She planned to dim the lights in the living room anyway, and details like eye-shadow tended to be lost in candlelight.

Not bothering with shoes, Lydia toyed with the shoelace around her neck, normally not obvious with the choices she made in clothes, but now an unhidden, aged, grungy shade of gray. She hadn't taken it off since Beej had given it to her, not even to bathe… But there was no heading downstairs with _that_ particular bit of jewelry, without raising a lot of hard to answer questions.

Reluctantly, Lydia drew the thin loop of fraying fabric over her head, the thick golden hoop spinning freely on the end, once it was no longer supported by her chest. She watched it, dangling from her fingers, with a frown. This ring was what had brought her and Beetlejuice together… Even, in a roundabout way, her and Vincent too. And she was so used to it, that her neck felt bare without its familiar weight.

But… It was just for the night. Then she'd put it back on.

Pulling out the hidden drawer, barely an inch in height and disguised as a fancy trim, she couldn't quite suppress a smirk as it suddenly yawned, once free of its confines, and offered a depth of a good three feet, for her to hide all her favorite treasures in. Though it was of course, only one such hiding place the desk had revealed, upon careful inspection…

There was an ace of spades, battered a bit with time. She still remembered 'collecting' that. Her spider web poncho. An aged flier for some rock concert she and Beej had seen halfway around the world… On a school night. Various treasures she'd won off the poltergeist in games of chance or skill… Then sometimes lost back, before winning again. A poster of the _Midsummer Night's Dream_ cast, from a play at least a hundred years before, recently signed by William Shakespeare. Post mortem, of course.

And now, her ring, with the tiny etched name, that had started everything, almost four years before. She started to lay it across her poncho, then paused, and, after a moment's thought, reached down as far as she could, and tucked it under all her other little treasures, at the bottom of the drawer, where she could be doubly certain no one would find it.

_Knock, knock, knock._ "Honey?" Barbara, of course. "Didn't you say he'd be coming soon?"

Soon? More or less. She'd actually timed it very well… Though it wasn't like there couldn't be a margin of error, since he could actually show up whenever she called him. Not that she liked the idea of him just sort of waiting around… Which was why she might not get as high a grade on that little assignment tomorrow as she would have liked.

"Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure soon." Lydia agreed, not moving to the door. "Don't come in, I'm getting dressed!" She was already dressed of course, a girl who had a poltergeist like Beetlejuice popping into her room at any given moment, learned to dress quickly, when she used it for that. But there still was her boyfriend to call… "I'll be down in a minute!"

"Okay, honey. I've made snacks." Lydia pursed her lips at that idea. Snacks. Who knew whether Vincent would even be able to eat them. After all their time together, one thing she'd definitely learned about her boyfriend… She could stomach neitherworld treats, a lot better than he could stomach living world ones. And knowing Barbara, there'd be cookies to deal with.

Lydia bit her thumb lightly, as she found herself standing in front of the mirror, wondering again if this was a good idea. Vincent said he could look human, if he needed to. And the only way to make her parents less suspicious over the idea of her sneaking off without their permission, was if they actually spent time together, that they not only knew about, but could supervise.

It was silly, of course. Barbara loved the guy, and so did Adam. Well, what they knew of him, anyway. She wasn't counting out some unconscious kinship over the matter that they were all ghosts… Which also might explain why her mother liked him too. Him being a ghost, that was.

And that leaving the problem… Even not knowing he was dead, her father still didn't like him. And spending time with the guy right under his nose, positively reeked of a bad idea, all around…

"Too late to change my mind now…" She muttered under her breath, reaching out, and tracing her fingertips along the bottom edge of the glass. And a little more certainly, "Vincent?" She focused on the prince in her mind, not the way he looked, but the energy he exuded… So familiar to her from the beginning, despite never being able to put her finger on just why. "It's time. Are you ready?"

The image, her reflection, blurred, then cleared, revealing a young man, perhaps all of nineteen, slouched listlessly in an oversized chair. Disturbingly normal, disturbingly human. Long hair cast across a troubled gaze, lips pursed, slender fingers twitching slowly. Not Vincent in any way she could explain. And yet, unmistakably _him_.

"Vincent?" She echoed, suddenly not sure the night was such a good idea after all. "Is that really you?" The idea of him, looking like just any living boy… It seemed, wrong somehow.

His eyes flicked up, and a slow, grateful look spread across his features, so familiar that it could be mistaken for nothing else but her boyfriend's. "Lydia…" He murmured, a relieved tone in the name as it fell from his tongue, and he stood, in one smooth motion. He didn't quite go as far as smiling, it would have been purely a nervous smile if he had, but he made a small arc with his hand, indicating himself. "What do you think? Am I… acceptable?"

Lydia didn't answer that right away. It was unsettling, hearing her boyfriend's voice coming from this stranger's mouth… Sure, he looked human. Even handsome, she supposed, for most of the same reasons she found him good looking anyway. But this, it wasn't _him_. This was…

This just wasn't what she wanted.

Lydia's fingers flared briefly across her lips, and she forced a little smile. "If that's the first good look my parents get at a human you, I think they'll be impressed." She admitted, wondering just how long he'd sat in that chair, waiting for her call. "But, um…"

The prince frowned, easily reading her displeasure. "What is it, my Lydia? You don't like the way I look?"

"Hmm, actually, that's just it." She made a half hearted little gesture of dismissal with her hand, not sure how to tell him that the new magic he'd mastered, just for her, wasn't as welcome as she'd expected. "I like the way _you_ look… And that is _not_ how you look."

She wasn't sure why Vincent's distressed expression faded to one of thoughtfulness, as he considered her… Less sure why he didn't look more upset, at her negating all his hard work. "Look, the disguise is for _them_." She said at last, not sure herself why it bothered her so much. "Can't you just let _me _see the real you?"

A slow, strange smile twisted just the edge of Vincent's mouth, and he nodded, slowly. With a gesture that comprised just the tips of the fingers on his left hand, he was standing before her again, looking the way he should look. "Better?" He asked softly.

"Heh, much." Lydia suddenly wanted to avoid his eyes, her cheeks just a trace warmer than usual, and ducked her head a little, so he wouldn't see. God, was she blushing? Beetlejuice would never let something like that go… Thank goodness he wasn't here!

Vincent reached through the glass of the mirror though, and before she could protest, tipped her chin up just a little, considering the girl tenderly. "Why do you look away, my Lydia?" He asked softly, his tone nothing but gentle. "You, of all people, should never lower your eyes from me."

It was so simple, so silly, but the feather touch of his fingertips against her skin, cool as a winter's kiss, raised goosebumps on her. "Yeah," She heard herself murmuring, trying to bluff off the sudden uncertainty that flushed her skin, "I'm not supposed to blush, either." But she _was _feeling weird around the guy more and more lately, ever since he'd said he loved her… Not that that necessarily had anything to do with it.

"The effect colors your cheeks wonderfully." He said simply. That of course, was about all Lydia could take, brushing his hand away with a little, amused purse of her lips. Vincent, in a way her best friend never would have done, let it go at that. "We're ready then?"

What? No, right. Lydia nodded, clearing her throat, and finally felt able to look at him again. Where had that brief sense of light-headedness come from? She couldn't really be falling for him like that, could she? Oh well, deal with it later… She had more important things to think of.

"Um, don't forget, you have to pull up in a car. Doesn't matter what kind. They just can't think you got here on foot… Or you know, through the mirror." She smiled a little tightly, not from a fluttering stomach this time, but the reality of how many different ways the evening could still go wrong.

"For now." Vincent agreed enigmatically, seeming satisfied to leave it at that. Lydia wanted to protest, but in the next moment, her mirror was empty, and she was left to weigh the meaning of her boyfriend's words alone. For now? Well hell, she supposed it was true, they couldn't keep this whole mess a secret forever…

"At least for tonight…" She muttered to herself, regarding her own reflection in the mirror with her most determined look. "No one is going to find out the truth tonight. I am going to deal with _that _some other time." The vague sort of 'some other time' that never actually came, hopefully… Like when she'd actually get around to tidying her room.

A low chuckle came suddenly from behind her, thick and genuinely amused. Lydia grimaced, and turned to face the poltergeist, now lounged in midair as usual, doing a slow clap. "What d'ya know… Lyds has got herself a crush on prince not-so-bright!" He murmured, tongue practically dripping sarcasm, as he grinned his ass off.

Lydia's first instinct, oddly, was to deny it, like a third grader confronted on the playground, but she bit her tongue, snorted through her nose, and gave him as unaffected a glance as possible. "You're just now figuring this out?" She muttered, not nearly as put off as she pretended, and in fact, unable to avoid just a trace of her own grin. "Way to go, Beej!"

The poltergeist smirked at her, made a rude gesture with his hand, then sighed, and laid back a little more, on the nothing supporting him. "Don't get me wrong babes, I'm not complaining. I'm sure I can figure some way to make this work for me… Him being the crown shit, and everything. Gotta wonder though… Ain't never seen your ass blush before for anything. This got anything to do with what you said the other day? About you and prince-arino?"

"Urg…" Lydia grunted, swiping her fingers through her bangs. "Hell if I know."

Beetlejuice let this rest a minute, turning it over, before sitting up again. "Come on babes, I know you got plans, but blow this loser off, and you and me'll have some _real_ fun. There's this place running two for one specials on their 'House of Wax Gore…' You'll get some fucking killer pictures! Maybe even sell them, like your old lady does…"

The House of Wax Gore? Beej was right, that sounded great for a little disturbing photography… Way too convenient, that he just think of it now. Lydia shot him an unimpressed look. "And why is this the first time I've heard of the place?" She demanded, not for an instant thinking of cancelling her date. "You're supposed to take me to all the creepiest spots in the neitherworld, and _this_ place somehow just never came up?"

"Huh." The poltergeist's mood seemed to suddenly sour, and he looked off in the distance a little, frowning. "Guess I was waiting for the right time."

"Bullshit." Lydia denied easily, crossing the distance between him, grabbing the ghost's arm gently, and tugging him down to the carpet. "What's really eating you, Beej? You've been acting really weird lately…" A slow look of amusement crossed his features at her words, though he didn't quite smile. "I mean for you! Come on… Spill it!"

Beetlejuice snorted, rolling his head around on his neck in a way that made it seem about to fall off, until he was regarding her with a look of smug disgust. "The hell babes, you expect me to fucking make it easy for him? You deserve better than that… " He licked his thumb, running his fingers through his wiry blonde mess, and gave her a look that seemed to say he expected better of her. "Look, I already know you're fucking crazy about the drip. And hey, hell, that's fine. Told ya, I can use that. But I spent the better part of my life making afterlife hell for those Royals… Ain't breaking tradition now."

"And I suppose someday, you'll tell me why you've got such a grudge against him?" Lydia shook her head as she asked, not really believing it, and not really surprised when he laughed derisively at the idea. "Fine, keep your secrets. I'm going to go downstairs, and I'm going to spend time with my boyfriend, and by this point Beej, all I really expect from you is to give a damn enough about _me_, not to ruin it."

This stopped his laughter, shortly, and he considered the girl, a sort of weighing in his eyes. Like he was trying to figure out himself, whether or not it was true. Then he smirked, sort of arrogantly, and patted her on the head, dismissing the whole thing as something he no longer wanted to discuss. "You just don't get it, huh? Forget it babes. The whole thing's clearly over your cute little black mop. Just don't go forgetting yours truly, when he tries to put a crown on it."

"Like I could forget you, if I wanted to." She muttered, annoyed by his blatant effort to patronize her, probably to piss her off, since it wasn't like him. "My whole family's still traumatized from the last time you showed up in their lives… I doubt I'd be any different."

At this, Beetlejuice actually looked kind of smug. "You know, you always say the right thing, babes. But I gotta tell you, I'd haunt _your_ ass for the rest of goddamn eternity, you know?"

Clearly it was a compliment… Sort of. "Don't try to sweet-talk me now," She scolded, finally grabbing the box she'd left in the corner until now, and shooting him an amused look, "I told you, I've got a date. We'll do the House of Gore thing another time."

"Humph." His good mood not really spoiled, he flipped her off as she reached for the door, trying not to drop what she was carrying. Of course he made no effort to help, but he was grinning. "House of Wax Gore, babes." Then, as an afterthought, "Wonder what that leggy broad's up to tonight…" And before she could so much as roll her eyes, he was gone. Leaving her to struggle with her box alone.

She set it down, and got the door. Easily solved. Didn't need him for that at all, did she? Still pissed her off, he couldn't even get the door...

No sooner had she reached the top of the stairs, than she almost ran into Barbara, already on her way back up. She had a mischievous twist to her lips, and her eyes were positively glinting. "Guess who's here, Lydia?" She teased, looking as pleased as if it were her own date… Maybe more. "You never told me how _cute _he was without his make-up…"

Lydia tried not to laugh. This was off to an interesting start… "Come on, Barb. Give me a hand with this stuff, will you?" She tipped the box in the older woman's direction, and easily, her friend caught the old record player balanced precariously on the top.

Barbara eyed the 'antique' with something like nostalgia… Though as far as Lydia knew, the old music player dated even her. "A record player? Where on earth did you find one of these?"

"It wasn't that hard," The girl assured her, trying not to trip over her own feet, as she headed down the stairs. "Lots of groups still release their music on vinyl. Some people apparently love the sound. The records…" She broke off here, as she found herself facing her date, who took the heavy box from her gallantly. Lydia smiled. "Hey, Vincent."

"Hello Lydia." He murmured warmly, balancing the box on one arm, and extending the other to her, to take her hand gently. Apparently not even noticing the weight. To her relief, he looked completely normal… Well, for him. She just couldn't get used to the idea of him trying to look _alive_. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting…"

"Hmm…" Lydia gave him a studying glance, and wondered to herself which was more unlikely… That the lanky prince was able to lift the heavy box so easily with one arm, or that he could balance it that way without any visible effort on his part. Clearly this was going to be an interesting night of playing, _Why no, I didn't notice anything strange just now, did you?_

"Nah, I was just getting a couple last minute things straight." She gave his hand a brief squeeze, and let go, leading the way into the living room, and pointedly not looking at any of her parents, gathered around like a pack of… something or other. Waiting to descend, if either one of them screwed up. Of course, maybe it was just her imagination…

With a yank, Lydia grabbed the blanket thrown over the back of the couch, and flipped it, hard, letting the thick softness spread evenly across the floor, before finally turning her attention back to the prince. "Just put that down there. You brought your records too?" Vincent affirmed this, she didn't really pay attention to his exact words, instead acknowledging for the first time, her father, off to one side, pointedly looking at nothing at all.

Lydia felt a stab of irritation, and just a little something like disgust, as quickly as she tried to banish it. But for god's sake, what was his problem with dead people? Everyone died… He'd die too, one day! It had to be the most irrational-assed prejudice she'd ever heard of!

Realizing Vincent wasn't talking anymore, she turned to glance at him, and was met with her date following her line of sight, watching her father with what could be called nothing less than intense dislike. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. First Beej, now her dad… She caught him by the arm, surprising him from his study of the living man, and gave him a flat, warning glance. She hadn't forgotten yet what Beetlejuice had said about him, boyfriend or not. _I am not putting up with this bullshit,_ she warned him, without a word, _Not from my dad, and not from you._

Vincent quickly seemed to get the message, pursing his lips a little, and nodding, taking a small step back, in an unmistakable lowering of arms. Lydia suppressed a sigh, and dutifully did her best to pretend that the exchange hadn't even taken place.

"Okay, so…" She looked around at the rest of her parents, not bothering to mask her thinly pressed patience at them standing around, gawking. "I don't know what all of _you _are going to do, but _we're_ going to listen to records." A small pause, then, pointedly, "You can stick around, but try not to be weird about this, or I swear, you'll never know when we're hanging out together again."

Her father's reaction was immediate, but not as pronounced as Olivia's… Where he looked angry, clearly about to say something she was more than ready to counter, her mother started laughing, like she found her daughter's display of defiance more humorous than anything. "Really…" She murmured aloud, shaking her head, and without seeming to take any further interest in Lydia's mouthing off, turned her intention to her husband. "You know she takes after you, don't you?"

Edmond looked, more than anything, simply caught off guard by the comparison… Then, slowly, annoyed by the lack of support he seemed to be getting. "How so?" Olivia twisted her lips, shaking her head, and left him there, without another word. "Olivia…" Her father followed, giving up one battle for another.

Adam, watching them go, gave a little, pressed smile, before turning back to his own wife. "Well, let's leave them alone, shall we?" Glancing back at Lydia, "You two behave, because we _will_ be checking up on you."

His wife sighed, and looked patient. "Adam…"

"Don't '_Adam' _me." He denied, trying to look stern. "Lydia is still our little girl, and I don't know about you, but I'm not about ready to let her start growing up too fast." The whole effect spoiled, of course, by the twitching of the corners of his mouth, as he tried not to smile. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and made a point of looking at his watchless wrist. "Well, now that that's settled… Isn't there somewhere else we're supposed to be?"

Lydia felt a little calmer as her old friend winked at her as he left the room, Barb hanging on his arm, and promising cookies to the two as she went. When she turned back to her date though, clearly he didn't know how to take his odd 'welcome.' Lydia shrugged, giving him her most helpless look. "That could have gone worse."

"My Lydia…" Vincent clearly had something on his mind, but suddenly seemed content to busy himself with settling up the record player she'd brought down, and gathering his own pile of, admittedly, rather warped looking records. "Does it not trouble you, that your father seems to dislike me so?"

A little surprised he needed to ask, Lydia considered her boyfriend's back, until he turned back, kneeling on the blanket, without waiting for her. When he looked up, he looked worried. Like he really thought her dad was going to change things between them. "You realize how much of my life is based around stuff they wouldn't like, if they knew I was doing it?" She pointed out, finally settling onto the blanket beside him. "I never even would have _met _you, if I cared that much about whether or not they liked who I hung out with."

He still looked dubious, but visibly relieved. "I suppose that is true, my Lydia…" For the sake of changing the subject as much as anything, he turned his attention to her box of old music, examining the covers of each album, as he slowly picked through them. Meanwhile, she was examining his neitherworld records too… _Blue Corpse Rock_… _A Tale of Torn Souls… Living the Dead Life…_

"So, this is all more modern stuff, right?" She mused, lingering over a surrealistic looking album cover, labeled, _Never Wanna Live Again, _by the _Deathly Visited_. "'Cause the stuff I got is all seventies mostly. Bowie, Ozzy…" Vincent lifted his head to listen. "Classics. Usually I listen to more recent bands, but I thought this might be fun too. Everything starts somewhere. Good music as much as anything." She lifted the record in her hand, adding, "But I get to pick first."

Vincent nodded, and set his own 'reading' aside, crossing his hands languidly over his lifted knee. "I can't say it surprises me…" He mused, seeming perfectly willing to accept her seized control, "You've always enjoyed the neitherworld… _everything_. Certainly, you've adjusted to existence there far more easily than I'd expected, back when we first met."

She supposed that was true. "That, I get from my mom." She assured him, watching as he set the record in place.

The prince lifted his gaze at her words though, and shook his head, firmly. "No." He denied, as if this were simply without question. "I am quite certain by this point, my Lydia… It is uniquely you."

Lydia wasn't sure what to say to that… She still sometimes felt like she'd spent her whole life, trying to escape her mother's shadow. Everything she loved, her mother had loved first. Everything she did, her mother seemed to do better. They even looked alike… Almost eerily so, and not in the good way. Though, admittedly, that _was _more when she was younger.

But hearing Vincent claim that something, anything, but especially something that meant so much to her, was uniquely _her_?

She just, didn't know what to say.

Slow, low strains whispered through the air, as the music started, easing into a steady, soft beat, accompanied by oddly seductive female croons. It was neitherworld music, there was no mistaking it for anything else, and it drew her attention from the unintended compliment that her boyfriend offered, albeit slowly.

For a while, they just listened, not taking. Lydia's eyes lidding, as she found herself wondering for the first time, at just how easily she had accepted so many strange new things, so quickly. Most pointedly, some_one_, her mom had run from as hard as she could. _Beetlejuice_. How did it always come back to him? Maybe, because it had started with him…

The haunting tones suddenly hit a note that raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, and made her arms goose pimple, like they'd been kissed by a ghostly caress. Running her fingers down them, she moved closer to Vincent, instinctively, forgetting that he wouldn't be able to warm her. And when he dropped his arm across her back, and pulled her closer, she'd already forgotten her reason, and just enjoyed the feel of his arms around her.

"Vincent?" She prompted softly, suddenly wanting to hear his voice, as if the music she'd been enjoying a moment before, unsettled her now… Not for any reason she could explain.

"Hmm. What is it, my Lydia?" He murmured, giving her a little extra squeeze, as if he sensed her sudden worry.

"I… don't know." She admitted, before falling silent again. It was a sad song, about a woman trying to go on with her afterlife, while the man she loved went on living, without her. How she watched from the shadows, as he fell in love again, and she tried to be happy for him, while her heart was breaking. The more she listened to it, the more it disturbed her… "Can we listen to something else?"

"Of course." He drew away, just enough to reach for one of her own records, but though she didn't quite look at him, wondering at herself, she was certain he watched her from the corner of his eye. "Perhaps, that wasn't the song to begin with."

A pause, then, "Have you listened to it before?" She asked softly.

Strangely, he didn't answer right away, putting her record in place, and starting it, before reaching for her again. His arm around her, the bottom part of his face tucked into the crown of her head, before she admitted, quietly, "Obsessively, at times." This was all he said on the subject though, before he interrupted, murmuring, "Here comes your mother."

Lydia lifted her head, surprised that her mom would be coming back to check on them so soon… But stubbornly not pulling from Vince's grip. Surprising her further, it wasn't Olivia, but Barb. She turned this over in her head, briefly. She called Barbara her mother in her own mind all the time, but no one else ever had… It caught her off guard a little.

"David Bowie!" Barbara beamed, settling down next to the two like she'd been invited, bearing a heaping plate of frosted chocolate cookies. "I used to have such a crush on that man! …Before I met Adam of course." But it was a belated sort of denial, and her eyes gleamed as she said it, making Lydia giggle, suspecting she'd never really gotten over the crush at all. "So," The ghost woman's eyes turned from one to the other, eagerly, "What are you two talking about?"

Lydia didn't skip a beat, even managing a straight face. "How great my parents are, giving us privacy like this." She lied easily, straightening a little in the prince's arms, before finding a more comfortable position, and relaxing again. "I mean, seriously, most parents wouldn't just let us hang out like this… They'd be hovering over us all the time, saying what a cute couple we are, or asking weird questions…"

Barbara laughed, rocking back on her heels, and getting smoothly to her feet. "I can take a hint… If two need drinks or anything, I'll be in the kitchen."

"That was, an odd exchange." Vincent mused, after a moment's pause, boldly running his fingers through her hair. "Clearly she knew you weren't telling the truth."

"It's called taking a hint. Like she said." Lydia drew from Vincent's embrace, a little reluctantly, though not far enough that they weren't still pressed together. "So… Here's one for you." She lifted her gaze to his, a soft challenge lighting her deep gaze. "Tell me something about you that I don't know."

Vincent considered her, not quite frowning, as he puzzled this through for a hidden meaning. "I'm not certain that serves as a hint." He denied at last, touching his chin lightly. "More of, a request. What did you wish to know?"

"I can make it a hint." Lydia frowned, mildly irritated to realize he was right. "Let's see…" She leaned closer, rested her fingers gently on his arm, giving him doe eyes, and murmured thickly, "Sometimes I feel like you're keeping all the secrets in the neitherworld, Vincent… Like I don't really know you at all, after all this time. I'd love to know something more about you. Something… you trust me enough to tell me."

A slow, amused look crossed the prince's eyes. "Quite manipulative, my Lydia. I am impressed."

Lydia sat back, satisfied, and looked smug. "Thank you." She eyed him at length, when he didn't immediately offer an answer. "So?"

"I'm attempting to answer a question you haven't asked, dear Lydia." He pointed out, lidding his gaze in thought, as he looked off at some point she couldn't see. "It may take a moment to find the right response." Then though, he looked at her again, and if his eyes did seem a little glazed over, they looked thoughtful too. "Something about myself, Lydia… Or something about my family?"

The goth girl rolled this over, for about the length of time it took to get the words out of her mouth. Sure, some gossip about his family might be fun… She was sure he'd make it good… But at the moment, what she wanted to know about was him. "Can I take a rain check on the family thing?" She asked hopefully.

Vincent looked confused. "A, rain check, dear Lydia?"

"Ah… Can I ask again later, and still get an answer?" She clarified, making his expression clear, as he understood. Oddly though, he hesitated a moment, before nodding. She puzzled on that pause, but only briefly. This was getting interesting. "Okay, then tell me about you. Something I don't know."

She didn't understand why a tight expression crossed his lips, but the prince nodded, drawing his knee up a little more, and dropped his head a bit, considering where to begin. "I had hoped you would ask about my family." He admitted quietly. "It would have been, an entertaining tale, if I have learned anything of the sort of stories you like." A brief, clear hesitation, before he went on, agreeing, "Very well then, my Lydia. A secret about me."

Maybe this was a bad idea… She hadn't meant for him to take it so seriously. It really didn't feel like a game anymore, the way Vincent was reacting... Was it something horrible about him? Or something he'd done? She didn't think anything the prince could have done would be _horrible_… It suddenly did feel like he was hiding something from her… Not just something that had simply never been mentioned, but just as she'd said, a _secret_.

She wanted to change the subject, but now it was too late… Wasn't it? He considered her from beneath his hanging strands of shadowy black, seriously. "How much do you know about how the neitherworld affects those who dwell there?" He asked, an odd beginning to any deep-seated shame, she couldn't help thinking.

"I… guess I never really thought about it." She admitted, wondering where this was going. "I know it traps the way a person looks when they died, so that doesn't change…"

"But it does." He denied easily, not waiting for her to finish the thought. "You see, Lydia… A person's true character is reflected more and more in their appearance, the longer they dwell there. What has been done by death cannot be undone… But they can be altered _further_. And those who have never been alive, or faced a mortal end…" A brief clouded look passed his gaze. "All of how we appear, is who we are within. Who we have been. We are, affected from the moment we are born."

Lydia turned this over in her mind, remembering the dance she'd made herself attend the week before. "In that case, there is something seriously wrong with some of the members of your family." She decidedly bluntly, wondering what sort of inner unpleasantness could form anything like some of the creatures she'd seen there that night. "You know that, don't you?" She should probably be more tactful, but Vincent had never been one to worry about tiptoeing around, where his family was concerned…

The prince's lips pursed. "I would think it safe to say, dear Lydia, that there is something _wrong_, with each and every member of my family." He assured her, somewhat enigmatically.

She considered him for a moment, silently, suspecting that _this _was where he was going. Something wrong with him. She didn't see anything wrong… Or okay, really, know what to look for. Still, she prompted, giving him permission to go on, "You seem pretty normal." Even if normal _was_ a highly relative term…

A sort of strained smile touched his lips, immediately making her want to look anywhere else. "I _am_ normal, my Lydia… For the neitherworld."

Suddenly, Lydia didn't want to hear anymore. Her life was good, just the way it was. If things were going to change because of some big secret, or get weird… Well, he could tell her some other time. It wasn't like it would be _bad…_ Just make things uncomfortable. And she didn't want that. Her teeth set, in something like a smile, and she shook her head, convincing herself as much as him, and met his gaze firmly. "Look, you know what? Forget it. Let's talk about something else."

Vincent paused, giving her a long look, not of relief, but uncertainty. As if he really had settled to telling her, and she was just throwing his whole plan off now. "I don't understand," He confessed softly, "Did you not ask me…?"

"Look… Yeah… Just, later, okay?" She started busying herself, looking through his pile of records, ignoring her own, though the words written across them failed to offer much meaning to her. _They Said We'd Never Die_… She had to read it twice for the words to make sense. "I don't want things getting weird." And that didn't make sense, because now things _were _weird…

A long, long pause, as the prince considered her. "If you say so, my Lydia." He agreed, looking vaguely disappointed… Less in her maybe, than himself.

But _she _was disappointed in herself. Here he'd been about to make some big confession, something he'd clearly wanted to get off his chest for a while, and here she was, stopping him, just because she was more afraid of what might happen next than he was. And they sat there, the mood for the evening ruined anyway, so close their sides were brushing, and Lydia wanted to be anywhere else. And it didn't make sense.

Lydia's hand traveled listlessly to the plate at her side, offering treats with so much chocolate that it wouldn't all fit inside, and chocolate icing had to be added as well. Still warm. _Stupid, stupid, stupid… _She'd be better off, just getting it in the open now… Instead she lifted her hand, treat clasped firmly between her fingers, and murmured, distractedly-

"Cookie?"

----------------


	7. Quality Time

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Here's my leap of faith. Instead of waiting a day to see if this makes sense to me then, I'm going to trust that you guys are right, and I'm too hard on myself, and post it now... And wait to see what you liked, and didn't like. If the last part seems random, well, it is. She's tired, and rambling a little. This doesn't mean there won't be consequences, when she wakes up.

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Beetlejuice slurped noisily at his strawberry flemon sorbet, grabbing a handful of candied beetles and mixing them, in his mouth, with the syrupy sour concoction. Glancing, over the oversized glass, at Lydia.

"I gotta tell you, babes… Unnatural weather we're having." Behind him, blasting against the plate-glass window, hail stones of an odd off-red, blazing with tiny sparks where they hit the side of the building, and tumbling, like errant embers, to collect on the sidewalk. "I mean, this kind of heat? It ain't even summer yet…"

"Uh-huh." Lydia murmured, watching the display, as she slowly stirred her eye scream into a nasty, bubbling mess of green globs, and white lumps. Soft, half frozen 'eyes' bobbed here and there in the noxious looking liquid, rolling with her methodical stirring, looking up accusingly from time to time. "It's real pretty, Beej. What do you call this kind of weather, anyway?"

The poltergeist lifted an eyebrow, and gave her a measured glance. "We call it shitty, babes." He informed her, matter-of-factly. "Only some kind fucking screwball'd be out in weather like this!"

He paused as she turned her gaze, and twisted around, following her line of sight. A squat, ash-covered man, rolling wisps of smoke, was trundling along the sidewalk, pushing along an especially wide broom. His goggles, smudged with black, gazed matter-of-factly sky-ward. His low hum, reaching the poltergeist's ears, even over the hissing of the embers…

"Well hell, babes." Beetlejuice grumbled, turning back to his drink. "What the fuck ever. The guy's getting paid, ain't he?" He pulled his straw free, and pointed with it at her now increasingly agitated dessert, despite the fact that she was no longer stirring it. "What'd you get, anyway?" He added, flatly. "Remind me."

"Hmm? Ah… Pistachio ooze, with clotted whipped cream." Not looking down at the bowl, she scooped a spoonful of the twisting mess up, and lifted it to her mouth, slurping it down as well as any dead guy he could name… But she barely seemed to taste it.

Still, he was satisfied. "That's my babes…" He muttered, grabbing another handful of candied beetles, and this time dropping them directly into his tall, cold drink. "Ain't none of that tame shit for _you_…" The odd compliment elicited her first real smile of the trip, which, in its own perverse way, made him want to scowl. What the hell was eating the girl's ass?

He pursed his lips, drew his straw from his drink, and pointed it at her, deciding it was time to cut the crap. "Okay, what's the deal, babes? Getting all broody over some stupid shit you ain't even gonna talk about… That's your mother's crap, not yours!"

The accusation caught Lydia off guard for a moment, and then she grimaced, screwing her lips up in a frustrated little purse. "Hell Beej… Is this what being in love is like? Because it's driving me fucking crazy!"

"Agh." He grunted wisely, tipping his seat back, and regarding her with an annoyed look. "That fucker again. Fine, all right…" He waved his fingers resignedly. "Get it out of your system. What'd he do now?"

Lydia started to answer, the words clearly ready on her tongue… And then, oddly, she made a little sound of anger, and picked up her complaint, what had to be halfway through. "-And then he eats the fucking cookie! He knows living world food makes him sick! So he spends the rest of the night trying not to throw up, so green my parents can see it, just because he didn't want to refuse when I offered him one!"

Which left the question of why she'd offered him one… "Huh." Beetlejuice drummed his fingers on the table, sympathizing with her gripe, but truthfully, far past bored with the subject of the little royal. "So you're dating an idiot. Good to know. Might come in handy… Seriously, babes?" He leaned forward a little, giving her a look of rapidly fading hope. "Can we talk about something else for a while? Scary movies, seedy nightclubs… I don't know… What the fuck we're gonna do over summer vacation… _Sandworms_, for god's sake? _Anything _else?"

Lydia shot him a look of short patience… But almost as soon as the look had formed, it was gone again, replaced by her usual expression of tolerant amusement. "I've been driving you crazy, haven't I?" She noted sagely, just a trace of a smile adorning her lips. "Well hell, Beej… I didn't _ask_ for any of this, you know. I figured things were fine the way they were…"

"No shit." The poltergeist snorted, reaching into his pocket for a grimy, tarnished flask, shaking it around briefly, then adding its contents to his iced drink. "I gotta tell you babes… This whole getting older thing ain't doing shit for you. You and me, we used to go out of our way to _make_ trouble… Fuck 'em all! Now," And he pointed at her, frowning. "You. _You_. You go out of your way to make sure you ain't caught doing _shit _wrong." He spread his hands in exasperation. "What the hell? _Seriously_?"

A sigh escaped her, and she pushed back her bowl, clearly not about to finish it. Especially now that it seemed to be moving on its own… "Excuse me for not wanting my life turned on its ass." She muttered, blowing her bangs aside, and, failing that, yanking them irritably out of her face. "You know what happens when my parents find out about you…"

"No," He demanded, dropping his chair with a solid thump to the floor, and leaning possessively closer, "You tell me babes, what happens? No, wait, I'll tell you… _Nothing_ happens. Those folks of yours can't do _shit_. We got a contract. Them?" He waved his hand dismissively. "They can whine about it until their eyes bleed. I honestly don't give a fuck."

Lydia smiled a little. She couldn't help it, in his own twisted way, the poltergeist was cheering her up… But it didn't last long. "And the rest of it?" She cast a glance around them, at the Freaky Eye Scream Shop, where she'd had to have tried over fifty of their nine hundred and ninety-five concoctions. "The neitherworld, my boyfriend, the rest of my friends?"

"Fuck them too." Beetlejuice growled, grabbing his drink, and pulling it down, hard. Apparently without regard for the risk of brain freeze. When he'd emptied the twelve-inch tall glass, he slammed it down, and glowered at her, daring her silently to say she gave a damn about anyone but him.

And, well, she couldn't do it. Because Beetlejuice was Beetlejuice, and arguing with him was more pointless than arguing with her parents. They all had skulls like brick walls. "I'm just saying…" She pressed anyway, not trying to compare the other things she risked losing, to her best friend, but he cut her off anyway.

"You're saying," He muttered, grabbing her dish as well, "That everything's fucking changing. And you know what, babes?" He made a sweeping gesture, indicating their surroundings, dismissively, and the goth girl herself, most of all. "_I_ didn't ask for any of this shit either. But since it turned out decent, why the hell are you fucking with it more?"

A wave of frustration flowed over her skin, making angry goosebumps rise, as she watched her best friend down the soggy mess that was supposed to be her dessert, sickeningly. "So what," She demanded, frustrated with him, frustrated with herself, and more or less frustrated with her whole goddamn life, "Nothing's supposed to change? Ever? That's it?"

He slammed the bowl down, hard enough for droplets of green to fly out of the bowl, and spatter across both the table, and her arms. "Why the hell not?" He growled.

"Because I'm not dead yet!" Lydia found herself yelling, rising to her feet… And abruptly, the center of much unwanted attention. This time though, the girl was just too angry to back down, turning to the surprised faces watching her, and snarling, "Mind your own goddamn business, and east your fucking eye scream!" Like word of that wouldn't end up reflecting poorly on her…

But Beetlejuice meanwhile, was laughing as she sat back down… A bit humorlessly, shoving the empty dishes away from him, but still, he was laughing. "That's what I'm fucking talking about!" He yelled, not seeming to care if everyone was listening. "_That's_ my babes, that don't give a damn what anybody thinks! Where the hell has _she_ been?"

Lydia just stared at him, trying to figure out both whether the poltergeist was crazy, and in her own mind, when she _had _started to change. Long before she could blame it on Vincent, she was pretty sure… With a sigh, she sort of crumpled, just not having the energy to argue with the dead man anymore. "Damn." She agreed, a bit disheartened. "This does suck, doesn't it?"

To this, Beetlejuice seemed to have nothing to say. He just watched her, eyes angry, lips twisted in what could almost be called a sulk. Fingers drumming once more on the table. Gradually though, they became slower, then stopped. He hated seeing Lyds like this. Hell if he knew what to do about it though.

The poltergeist sighed inwardly, as he realized a compromise had to be made, and for once, it looked like he was going to have to be the one to offer it… _Only for you, babes_. "Look, Lyds…"

Surprisingly, the girl interrupted him, taking away the need for him to be the bigger one. "I hate that it's changed too." She agreed out of nowhere, her voice soft again, her gaze cast down to her hands. "But you couldn't expect…"

"Why not?" He asked bluntly.

The question hung between them, and at last, Lydia shook her head, and looked up again, considerably more calm. "You're right Beej. This is my problem, not yours. It shouldn't get in the way of us having fun."

"Hey now," He protested, starting to get angry again, "I didn't say shit about it not being my problem…"

"Then I don't know what else to offer." She denied quietly, interrupting what was almost certain to be another argument-worthy rant. "Because my life _is _changing. Regardless of whether or not you change with it." Her eyes flicked to his, briefly vulnerable. "You're my best friend, Beej. I'd do anything to keep from screwing that up. You know that."

Almost against his will, Beetlejuice found his anger ebbing. Hell. Hell, she had to go and play that card. He frowned a bit to himself, pulling the flask back out of his pocket, and nursing back the foul-tasting liquor for upwards of a minute, before grudgingly, turning his attention back to her.

"Yeah, I know that." He agreed, annoyed with himself for not being more annoyed with her. "What the hell ever. You wanna talk about the prince, we can talk about him. I don't care." Which meant of course, that he did… Damn it.

When had this little girl made him so fucking soft?

What was apparent by this point though, were two things. One, they weren't going to get anywhere, arguing. And two, they weren't about to get any more privacy where they were. "Want to get out of here?" Lydia prompted after a minute, already getting to her feet, like she knew the answer.

She was right too. Beetlejuice got right up with her, hissing between his teeth, "_Fuck_, yes." Beetlejuice being Beetlejuice. Some things would never change…

At least she desperately hoped not.

----------------

Lydia poked through the aisle of candy, looking for something sweet… Something that wasn't chocolate. She'd had enough chocolate to last her a lifetime. Disappointed to find a lack of her favorite hard candies, she grudgingly grabbed a roll of cream-savers, hardly the lemon drops she loved so much, and took the bulk of her purchase up to the front of the little store.

She was nervous, and couldn't help it. The dimly lit 'convenience store,' reeked of alcohol, and coffee, and stale sugar. The guy behind the counter barely looked at her as he rang up her purchase, a length of beef jerky hanging out of his mouth, a baseball bat just to his right, in handy reach. He didn't seem to think she was much of a threat though.

Shifting, her eyes traveled to the security camera, hanging just above eye level to one side, then away again. Damn. She was never this on edge in Winter River… Or in the neitherworld, for that matter. She handed him her money, he handed her the plain brown bag. Never even looking in her direction. She squeezed the crinkly paper in her fist, and headed out the door, fast, like she was afraid of being caught, doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

An arm caught her around the middle, hard, as she emerged into the night, and Lydia gave a muffled squeak of surprise… Even knowing damn well that it was only Beetlejuice. She looked up at him with a scowl as he let her go, cackling softly to himself, like he was just enjoying their little outing so much. "So what d'ya get, that couldn't wait til you got home, babes?" He grinned evilly, adjusting his coat, to give her a chance to collect herself.

Lydia gave him a flat, annoyed look. "Tampons." She muttered, making the poltergeist forget what he was doing, and look up, apparently baffled.

"Huh?" He grunted intelligently.

"Fizzy energy drinks." She answered this time, pulling one out of the bag, and holding it in his direction. "You want one?"

He gave her a dour look, accepted the can, and promptly shoved it into his pocket, without a second glance. "You're real cute, babes… You know that?" She just smirked, cracked the can, and, while he watched in amusement, guzzled it down in three swallows. "So, not planning on getting any sleep tonight, huh?" He mused, starting to walk away, and forcing the girl to fall into step behind him, if she didn't want to get left behind.

"The three pounds of chocolate we just ate at that fondue place, didn't tip you off?" She murmured with a smile, crushing the can, and shoving it back in the bag.

Beetlejuice laughed, a guttural, nasty amusement to the sound, leaving her hard pressed not to giggle. "Can't believe you ate all that creepy crawly crap I brought in from the neitherworld…" His eyes glinted as he regarded the night, the light from a passing street lamp briefly catching unnaturally in his gaze.

"Anything's good when it's covered in enough chocolate." Lydia agreed flippantly, suppressing a brief shiver at the unexpected cold of the enormous city. "What I can't believe is that you snuck liquor into one of the pots…" She gave him a short, accusing look. "I almost got threw up!"

"Sure, babes…" Beetlejuice drawled, inspecting her through a quick, narrowed glance. "That's what did it, the three inches of rum. Not the fucking huge pot of melted chocolate you sucked down… 'Sides. I used the living world shit, didn't I?" Then, after a brief pause, "You know you loved it. I always had you figured for a rum drinker."

Lydia didn't say anything for a moment, walking in silence beside him, the two just another pair of faces in the still crowded streets. "Okay," She added, grudgingly, "I guess it was good." Then, after another moment's thought, "I stand by my flawed logic though. It was your fault."

Beetlejuice just chuckled, not arguing. Quickly though, he had something else to say. "So, secrets, huh?" Lydia wondered briefly what he was talking about, before she remembered how the topic of the prince had come back up at the restaurant… Because he couldn't eat one cookie without getting sick, and Beej was tucking into a chocolate smorgasbord with the best of them.

"Secrets." She agreed, with just a trace of a sigh, her eyes wandering off down one of the many side streets they were passing. It was weird being here… Her first visit to the big city. Her mother was from New York, originally. Sometimes she still talked about it like she wanted to go back, just for a visit. To Lydia's knowledge though, the older woman never actually had. "I kinda wimped out, on letting him tell me what they were though."

The poltergeist pressed his lips into a thoughtful moue, before they twitched into a truly, fiendishly pleased look. "Well hell, babes… You want me to find some dirt on the little royal, all you gotta do is ask!" Lydia gave him a short, uncertain glance, which just seemed to please him more. He cackled softly, rubbing his hands together, like a man about to dig into a feast. "Gotta tell you, if he thinks it's good enough to freak you out, I sure as _fuck _wanna know!"

A flare of uneasiness rose in Lydia's gut, as much as anything, prompted by how gleefully her best friend seemed to be taking the idea. She'd learned over the years that this usually led to trouble… And not the kind that was easy to get out of, either. "You know what?" She prompted, after a moment of weighing just how many ways this could go wrong, "You convinced me. I'm just going to ask him."

Beetlejuice scowled, looking slighted. "That's not what I was hinting at, Lyds." He protested, clearly not ready to call his fun off just yet.

"That's what convinced me." Lydia assured him dryly, pausing, as the two reached a red light. For once, the poltergeist didn't flick it immediately to green, and this left the two standing on the street corner, almost encased in darkness, as he tried to think of a way to argue this.

"I like trouble-making Lyds better." He muttered at last, and then, just when she was certain he was too deep in his own schemes to notice anything else, he suddenly pulled his coat off, and swung it around the smaller girl's shoulders. "Goddamn it, babes… You're turning blue! This ain't the fucking neitherworld! You wanna get sick?" He sounded genuinely angry.

Lydia smiled, burying the miscreant expression in the folds of his heavy black and white stripes. "Guess I forgot." She lied, touched by the poltergeist's rare show of concern, and unwilling to show it. He'd just make some wise-ass comment if she did, ruining the moment…

The coat smelled like him, of course, but that didn't make her wrinkle her nose, as it might once have. Like dirt, and tobacco, and a faint hint of mold… None of them bad smells, and altogether forming a scent that encompassed most of her life now. Her room smelled like him, her clothes often smelled like him, her pillow…

Actually, she didn't want to think that one through too deeply.

But the point was, she was so used to him, in so many little dismissible ways. Nothing he did got to her any more, not really. And as much as he griped about her changing… _He_ was changing her too, constantly. The chocolate covered crawlies only being the latest example. …Apparently though, that never occurred to him. That her whole _life _had been changing, from the moment she-

A wordless curse escaped her lips, and her hand flew up to her chest, closing around the empty space that should have been occupied by the poltergeist's ring. What the hell, she'd never put it back on? That had been two days ago! She swore at herself roundly, using words she'd only ever heard Beetlejuice himself use before, stomping her foot angrily against the concrete… And inevitably, drawing the dead man's attention.

Beetlejuice just looked at her though, pursing his lips, apparently writing the girl off as nuts. He didn't say a word… Not at first. But he did follow the movement she'd made at her chest, with his eyes. Since he didn't comment on it, she thought he hadn't figured out why… His words only a moment later though, quickly banished such illusions. "Never seen you take that off before." He noted, quietly, not once suggesting it might have just fallen off. "Guess you got sick of wearing that tarnished old thing."

It wasn't tarnished of course, it still gleamed like anything, but that wasn't what he was really saying anyway. What he was saying, was that this too, was change, and he didn't like it. But he was already tired of singing that song, so this unspoken observation was all he offered.

"The string broke," She heard herself muttering, lying by habit, even to him, "I've got to get a chain for it."

Beetlejuice made a rude sound. "Bullshit." He denied, looking just mildly amused, for reasons she didn't really want to think about. "Points for believability though, babes. I _saw_ you take it off the other night, when you were waiting for your date." Lydia stared at him in surprise, as much as anything, because she just hadn't sensed him watching her. "Gotta tell you though… Knew you'd lie to the rest of the world kid, same as me. Figured when it came to us though, that shit was off limits."

He didn't actually sound disappointed. She couldn't tell what he was feeling… But _she _felt awful. Sick, like maybe the chocolate she'd gulped down earlier was coming back on her. She opened her mouth, whether to apologize or make excuses, she'd probably never know… Because at that moment, the mix of what she'd eaten earlier, collided suddenly with her fizzy energy drink, and the whole goddamn world seemed to turn green.

With a lurch towards the trash cans in the nearby alley, Lydia was barely able to knock the lid aside, and grab onto the rim with both hands, before everything she'd ingested over the course of the last three hours, forced itself at once, back out of her. And it tasted a hell of a lot worse, coming back up.

It was only gradually, when her world had stopped spinning enough for her to wonder how she was still standing, that she gradually became aware of Beetlejuice's arm firmly around her middle, gently supporting her. Other things came into focus, like the man in rags, just a few feet away, utterly ignoring her sudden violent sickness, his face hidden behind an oversized hat. People on the street, glancing in her direction as they walked by, laughing. Beetlejuice… Not saying a damn word.

"I told you I was sick." She croaked, wiping her fingers across her lips, and shooting him a strained little smile. Beetlejuice didn't seem to know if he should look amused too, or just disgusted. But his eyes were odd, serious, even as his lips twitched in a smile.

Lydia went on suddenly, like she hadn't even been interrupted. "Hell, you're right…" She found herself turning into his arms, suddenly exhausted, the energy drink not having accomplished shit for her. "I didn't mean to lie to you. Even if you probably do lie to me all the time."

"Huh." Beetlejuice grunted, eyeing her warily, like she might still throw up on him. But he might have looked just a little worried too, if she'd bothered to look up… "You're probably right kid, but hell, you expect that kind of shit from me. You're supposed to be the one that doesn't go for that crap." With a sudden crouch, he grabbed her, and swung her off her feet, making the goth girl squeak in surprise, to find herself suddenly cradled against his chest. "What the fuck ever. You ready to head home?"

Lydia shook her head, still nauseous, but suddenly certain that the last place she wanted to go was back home. "I'm not tired," She lied again, already forgetting the consequences of her attempt at deception only seconds before, "Let's go do something else for a while." Never mind that she barely had the strength to lift her head, after her bout with being sick…

"Heh, whatever Lyds." Beetlejuice grunted, already pulling the magic around him that would send them somewhere else. She was just being stubborn of course, but hell, that was half of her charm… "B-words, babes."

The goth girl laughed softly. "That an order?" When he just grinned, she met his look defiantly, already feeling better. "All right, all right. Beetlejuice…"

---------------

In truth, the neitherwoods normally wasn't the sort of place a dead guy took a breather… Even aside from the whole, no living allowed in the neitherworld, deal. But in his opinion, that was just because most dead couldn't take care of their own asses in the dangerous trees, much less watching out for an even _more_ vulnerable living sort.

Beetlejuice of course, not being most people. He laid next to the Deetz girl on the gently sloping hill, the two of them gazing up at a sky more filled with angry clouds, than any hope of stars. Twice now, she'd almost fallen asleep- even started to snore, once, making him grin. Each time though, she'd stirred, forced herself awake, and continued regarding the twisting dark sky.

Not more than a handful of words had been exchanged between them… He, personally, was enjoying the break in conversation. He didn't like arguing with the girl… Not when he couldn't juice her ass if she annoyed him, like he could everyone else. Lyds on the other hand, seemed to have something on her mind. He just hoped to god it wasn't the fucking royal again.

The soft sounds of someone weeping filled the air, drifting between the other, subtle sounds of the neitherwood night. Weeping willows, probably. If not though, he really didn't give a damn. It was kind of musical though, with the whispering of the late breezes…

"Beej?" Ah, there it was. The girl was gonna go on about something else now… Hell only knew what. "Can I ask you something?" Beetlejuice grunted noncommittally, and the girl rolled up on her elbow, considering him with a frown. "I'm serious."

"Too fucking serious, if you ask me…" He grumbled, resigned to an awkward series of question and answer anyway. "Just fucking ask… No promises I'll answer."

"Fair enough." She didn't lay back down though, continuing to watch him in the darkness. "See, I was thinking about all those girls you've gone after since I've met you…" He smirked, just a little. Kid was jealous? Served her right. Her next words though, quickly banished any thoughts of a smile. "I know you didn't care about them. You pretty much told me so. Beej… Have you ever loved _anyone_?"

The sheer absurdity of the question, made it refuse to let itself register in his otherwise distracted brain. Gradually though, he understood what she was asking, and tilted his head, stared at her, and asked eloquently, "What the _fuck_?"

Lydia just gave him that look she had, the one she always gave him when he was being unreasonable, and she knew she was right. He kinda hated that look, now that he thought about it… "I mean it! I want to know if you've ever given a damn about anyone but yourself, Beej!"

There had to be a smart ass answer to that… And normally, he'd be able to find one, no problem. But at the moment, a truthful answer was a hell of a lot easier. "I give a damn about you." He muttered, summoning his hat with a twitch of his fingers, and pulling it down over his eyes. "What, suddenly that's not fucking good enough?"

Silence, from Lydia. Until he peeled the hat back, with just the tip of his thumb, and peered at her from beneath it. She should be satisfied by his answer… She'd never given a damn what he thought about anyone else _before_, so why now? But she just looked thoughtful, staring off into the shadows, like they held some secret only she could see. After a moment, he found himself unconsciously following that gaze… And so was caught off guard, when she asked her next question. "So… You've never been in love?"

Love? Hah! Love caused nothing but trouble… He'd met enough saps tangled up in their own guts over a ghoul, to know that. "Nope." He denied, matter-of-factly, tugging the hat back over his eyes, before she could notice his brief interest. "Figure I'll wait 'til I find a living girl to marry me, for that crap."

He was sure he could feel Lydia's eyes turn back to him, staring, hard enough to burn a hole through the ragged material… But when he peeked again, she was still gazing off at nothing at all. "That's kind of backwards." She noted, almost to herself. "You're supposed to fall in love, then get married." A small pause. "At least, that's the way I've always heard it."

"Well, you've heard wrong!" He heard himself growl, rising up to a sitting position, and discarding his concealment with an angry toss. "Say I fall in love with a broad, great. Whoopee. Then _she _decides she ain't gonna marry me. What happens? I get screwed over, _twice_." Lydia just stared up at him, surprise registering in her dark gaze, like she hadn't expected him to put that much thought into his answer. Or get angry.

"Why wouldn't she marry you?" She asked at length, when it was clear he had nothing more to say. For a minute, he was sure the girl was bullshitting him… But the look in her eyes was just too unguarded to be mocking. It left him, honestly, without a goddamn thing to say.

At last he grunted, and sank back down to the grass, no longer looking at her. "You're too good for your own good, babes." Was all he offered, enigmatically.

A long breath followed, broken only by the soft hissing of the errant breezes through tall grass. Then, quietly, as honestly as anything he'd ever heard from the girl… "I guess I just don't like the idea, of you ending up alone someday."

The words, so quietly spoken, left a feeling like a red hot spike, jamming down through his collar, and piercing a lung. For a minute, he couldn't speak. Him? Alone? How the hell was he gonna end up alone? Lyds was right- His mind refused to go any further with his. He wasn't even breathing. He'd gotten so used to the idea of the goth girl as part of his afterlife, that the idea of her, just not _there,_ suddenly scared him worse than facing a dozen sandworms.

"You goin' somewhere?" He rasped, not really surprised how hard the words were to get out, but confused as fuck as to why one little living girl had ever managed to change his afterlife so much.

She didn't answer right away, and every second she didn't, was like a red hot needle dancing somewhere in his guts. Then, to his surprise, since he wasn't looking at her, he felt Lydia suddenly tucking herself into his side, gently. Like she was cold, even though she was bundled up in two of his coats. "Nah," She murmured sleepily, with no clue that her simple answer let the poltergeist start breathing again, "'M not going anywhere."

He was quiet after this, when she didn't offer any more. He didn't know what had brought up her sudden curiosity, and in all honesty, just didn't want to fucking think about any of it any more. She was tucked into his side, curled into a ball, suddenly even smaller than her small frame seemed capable of. He turned his head, and looked at her, lying there, suddenly so still. It took him a minute to realize that this time, she really had fallen asleep. Like she just fucking trusted him to protect her.

Beetlejuice frowned, and turned his gaze back skyward, wrapping an arm absently around her motionless frame, and reaching with his other hand for a cigarette. He hadn't had a smoke all day, and well… The damn things helped him, when he didn't want to think. A minute later though, he paused, lit match in hand, and just sort of laid there, still, letting the tiny flame dance its light across his grimy skin.

Then, without a word, he put it out, and took the cigarette from his lips, tucking it right back where it'd come from. Didn't want to wake the kid… Who the hell knew what she'd come up with this time?

They lay there in the darkness, silently, alone, waiting for morning.

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PS, People need to go review 'Mostly Dead.' I want more chapters, K. J. Gough has a great concept there, so go review!


	8. Trying Not To Think

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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This is a short chapter, for this fic, but it has a heck of a lot in its pages.

RunLyllithRun got me thinking, with a question she asked. Here's my interpretation of an answer, for all to see.

Did anyone else get the feeling that Beej was lying, when he said he'd never been in love? I'm not saying anything conclusive, just that a guy as guarded of caring about anyone as him, maybe he has a reason. And maybe that's why he could be friends with Lydia too... She was a kid, just a 'little girl,' not a woman. He couldn't fall in love with her, and have her break his heart. I'm just saying... He's been around centuries... The odds of him never having cared about anybody, in all that time? And still able to care for Lyds so easily?

Well, that's my two cents given. The chapter has nothing to do with my suspicions, but with the title I've given this chapter in mind, the next few pages should prove a doozy... Can you believe I wrote them all today? Well, it is after midnight, but I still stand that it counts.

Unfortunately, this probably does not mean I'll be able to able to write a new update everyday. But thanks for asking! (Assumes you've asked...)

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Lydia didn't know where she was when she woke up- In her defense, she had every reason to believe she was waking up in her own bed, in her own room, as she had pretty much every morning of her young life. What _was_ quickly apparent, was that she wasn't sleeping alone… Someone large was squished against her, their arm thrown across her body. Someone with a deathly chill, and smelling unmistakably of Beetlejuice.

She sat up with a sound of anger, before she was completely awake, remarkably like a yell, even as she kicked away from him with both feet. Embarrassed, confused, and unable, for the life of her, to remember what had happened the night before, for the two of them to end up sleeping together.

This left Beetlejuice to be woken by her panicked shout, and before he could get his feet under him to react, to find two small feet buried hard in his gut, around the same time the girl clubbed him over the head with her flailing. He roared, yanking away, wondering what the hell had just attacked him, and fearing, for one insane instant, for the girl… Before he realized that she was the _source_ of his current beating.

He eyed her, baffled, as she continued scooting away from his across the forest floor, her face twisted in fury… Only to slowly falter in confusion as she seemed to realize, no, this was not her room. "What the _fucking_ hell?" She muttered, using both hands to push the hair from her eyes, and taking a long, slow look around. The poltergeist didn't budge so much as an inch, waiting for the girl to actually finish waking up.

Looked like she was the kind of chick who was a whole _hell _lot of fun the morning after…

Slowly, baffled expression still in place, she turned her attention back to Beetlejuice, who wasn't sure if he should be pissed off, or laughing his ass off. He settled for rubbing his gut, giving her a doleful little glare… Which finally seemed to melt through her confusion, because a look of sudden understanding, and horror, washed across the goth girl's features.

"Oh fucking _hell_!" She muttered again, turning the brightest shade of crimson he would have ever thought her pale skin could turn. "Fuck, are you all right?"

Beetlejuice milked his wounded look a little longer, no longer even annoyed with the girl… It wasn't like it was the first time he'd woken up to that reaction after all, and did his best not to fold over laughing, at what she must have assumed. "Hell of a way to wake up, Lyds…" He noted, serious as anything, despite the effort it took to be so. "What the fuck exactly did you think was going on?"

The goth girl, amazingly, now flushed with so much blood to her face, he half expected her to pass out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_" She cursed roundly behind her hands, trying to disappear between her widespread fingers. "Oh god, I'm such a fucking idiot…"

He couldn't help it, he started laughing, grabbing onto his knees to keep from falling over, and then, a moment later, tipping backwards anyway. After what felt like an eternity, tears almost forming in the poltergeist's eyes as he gasped for breath, Lydia's soft, embarrassed giggles joined his.

Grabbing his upturned knee with one hand, he yanked himself to a sitting position, and eyed her with a smirk. Her head bowed so far that her dark locks brushed the ground, her shoulders shaking with soft little paroxysms of laughter… With nowhere to hide from the embarrassment of her assumption, and his ensuing hysterical laughter.

"I swear you did that on purpose…" She snickered, finally lifting her head again, and letting him see her face returned to a normal healthy color, while her eyes shone with life. "God, what was I thinking? That a shot of rum got me drunk enough to end up in bed with you?" His grin faltered, just a little. "I'd have to be totally _hosed _for-!"

Abruptly she broke off, and the two just considered each other, suddenly the humor seeming to die out of the situation. All he could think was, _Hell, my own babes, and she'd have to be wasted? _Even if she wasn't old enough… _There _was an ego crippler, right there.

Meanwhile Lydia was biting the inside of her lip repeatedly in anger, at her own suggestion that he'd do something like that. To _her_. Both completely oblivious to the fact that the other was upset at all.

After a minute of this, Beetlejuice had had enough, and pushed himself to his feet with an exaggerated clumsiness, offering the goth girl his hand. No sooner had she accepted it though, before she could pull herself up, than a new thought gripped him, and his lips twisted in renewed humor. "You realize you're dead now, right babes?"

For about the length of a thought, Lydia just stared at him, not understanding. Half-risen. At first she thought he meant _dead_-dead, and was absolutely baffled… She hadn't been that sick! Had she? Or was it something about spending the night in the neitherworld, or-?

Spending the night in the neitherworld. As in, not her room. As in, not at home. As in, and this was the big one, not anywhere where her parents knew where she was. Lydia's jaw dropped, and a little, strangled sound emerged. "I am _so_ dead." She agreed softly, finally standing, with a good deal more effort than she'd expected. Beetlejuice just gave her a sympathetic little smirk. Lydia wondered if she was too old to put herself up for adoption.

"Come on, babes…" He cackled softly, once she'd stood there for the better part of a few minutes, trying to find an excuse for why she'd been gone, where she'd been… And any, _any_ reason at all, to put off going home. He caught her by the wrist, ignoring her internal struggles, and pulled her carelessly against him…

And paused. There it was again, something different about the girl. He gave her a little, additional squeeze while she was distracted, to puzzle it through… And it hit him, like a punch to the gut, as he realized what he _should_ have realized some time before. Lydia Deetz was no longer a little girl. The young goth girl in his arms, was actually a young _woman_.

He just stood there, baffled, more than anything else. He didn't have an idea in hell how to approach this one… Lyds? A woman? That was a little more 'change' than he had counted on… Hell, he'd known it had to happen sooner or later, _I'd just figured, you know, __later__!_

Lydia brushed her hair back from her face, and looked up at him, having no way to know the epiphany that had just struck her best friend. She looked puzzledly at the poltergeist, still just sort of staring down at her, completely at a loss for what to do. She seemed to misinterpret why though, a grateful smile crossing her lips a moment later, before she laid her head down against his chest, and sighed. "Thanks for trying to think of a way out, but I think I'm totally screwed here, Beej. Let's just get this over with."

She still felt so fucking small against him… But there was no mistaking now, the difference in the shape and feel of her tiny body, against his. How the hell had he missed this? And what the _hell_ was going to happen now? He'd gotten so used to hanging around with the kid… _Kid_ being the operative word there. What the hell, now he was going to be hanging around with a perfectly-!

"Uh, sure, Lyds." He grunted, unconsciously loosening his hold on her, like suddenly he wanted some distance between them, while he figured this the hell out. She just continued to stare at him quizzically, blissfully unaware of the way his perverted mind was doing its best to turn… Blocked at every angle by the realization that this was Lyds, _his _Lyds, and how hard he'd been trying, just a few hours before, to make sure he didn't lose that.

Above all else, he couldn't screw this up… or he'd lose her. "Hold on, babes." He heard himself mutter gruffly, pulling them into the dark place of brilliant heat and cold caresses, which she seemed to prefer to the mirror more and more these days. He tried to read something into it, and couldn't. The girl just liked weird stuff like that.

They touched lightly onto her carpet, only half a span of breaths later, much to Lydia's surprise. Or so it seemed to him, when she looked up, puzzled. "In a hurry?" She griped good-naturedly, starting to draw away…

Only to be grabbed by the poltergeist again, hard, and drawn against him, for less than the length it took her to wonder what he was doing. Then he let her go, along with whatever he might've been thinking to himself to do, and managed a crooked grin in the girl's direction. "Places to go, people to see!" He agreed flippantly, giving her a little mock salute, before twisting his heels into the carpet… And he was gone, just like that.

And as he always did when things were weird between him and the living girl, he left her trying to figure out just what the hell had just happened, while he went off and tried, impossibly or not, to get himself drunk… And just not think of anything at all.

Especially giving a damn about _anyone_.

----------------

Lydia peeked around the edge of her doorway, listening for the sound of strange voices in the house, to warn her that her concerned parents had called the police. Again.

When so such sign was forthcoming, she left her room completely, and looked up and down the little hall in puzzlement, wondering at how utterly calm the house seemed. Slowly she walked down the hall, until she stood at the top of the stairs, and found herself overlooking a tight little discussion between her mother and father. Neither one had noticed her yet, too absorbed in what was, apparently, an increasingly agitated conversation…

And then her mother looked up, saw her, and made a quick, hurried movement, motioning her father into silence. The two greeted her, respectively, with a strained smile, and silence. "You're finally awake," Her mother noted, sounding as tired as if she'd been the one out at all hours. "Good. Barbara saved some breakfast for you. It's probably starting to get cold."

A moment of inane surrealness hit the girl, making her eyebrows fly together in disbelief, but she did her best to quickly disguise the look, just nodding, and coming the rest of the way down the stairs. She didn't look at either of them again as she passed them… Less for her mother's awareness of her personality, and ability to read her, than the sense that nothing, _nothing_, could be hidden from her father at the moment.

As she passed them, safely making her escape into the kitchen, she heard their furious whispers starting up again. Apparently it was not a boring day in the Deetzs' household… Now to see how the Maitlands were greeting the day. With luck, _they_ hadn't noticed she was gone either.

"Hey, Barb." She greeted her godmother, surprising the woman with a quick squeeze around her waist, making her friend yelp good-naturedly. "What's for breakfast?"

"Lydia!" The ghost woman looked at her with a scolding smile, dropping a kiss lightly on top of her head, and returning the friendly squeeze. "When did you get up?" Then, almost in the same breath, "Would you like some eggs? Bacon? Hash-browns?" A small pause, "Coffee?"

"You really went all out, huh?" Lydia smiled, giddy with the idea that she was actually going to get away with her little blunder… And pointedly not answering Barbara's first question. "I think I'll have everything, I'm starving!"

"Hm. About time you got your appetite back, young lady." Adam noted with mock sternness, glancing at her over his paper. "Maybe now you'll actually start growing again!"

The goth girl stuck her tongue out at him, making him smile, and turn back to his article… All the while wondering if her appetite had been a little odd recently. After a moment, she determined that no, it hadn't… She just hadn't been eating at _home_ was all. Now to explain that one…

Barbara placed a hot plate in front of the girl, overflowing not only with the aforementioned goodies, but also links of sausage, chunks of ham, and fresh biscuits, covered in gravy. Lydia stared at the plate, filled with far more food than she could ever eat alone, and wondered vaguely what the ghost woman was trying to overcompensate for. "Wow… Barbara… It looks delicious…" She murmured weakly. Maybe she was being punished?

"I got up early… Didn't know what to do with myself…" She was avoiding her goddaughter's gaze, wiping her hands off methodically on the front of her dress, offering a very forced smile. "I don't think your parents ever really went to sleep last night. I'm not sure how anyone was supposed to get any sleep in this house, with those two-!" She'd actually started to sound agitated, breaking past her calm façade, and broke off as soon as she realized she was doing it, just forcing another smile. "Well, thank goodness you got some sleep, honey."

The implication of course, being that her parents had fought all night. Her parents, who were usually so bound up in being lovey-dovey with each other, they sometimes forgot she existed. A little lurch of dread took seed in her belly, gnawing at her new appetite, and making it vanish. "I slept like the dead." She assured the woman, with an odd twist on the truth.

"Well, the dead didn't get much sleep around _here _last night, that's for sure." Adam muttered to himself, the closest she'd ever seen the man to actually coming out and complaining about anything. In the next breath though, before she could question it, he was lifting the paper in his wife's direction, with a question of his own. "How do you think that chair would look in the living room, Barb? Our rocker's pretty much beyond repair, these days…"

Barbara, without another word on the argument that Lydia's parents seemed to be having, put down what she was doing, and walked over to take a look at the picture herself. Just like nothing was wrong. "Oh Adam, I don't think that would match the furniture at all…"

Lydia, looking back and forth between the two, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with her little world lately, lifted her fork, and tapped her cup of coffee, hard, like a child demanding attention. Both Maitlands looked up at her, surprised. "Is, _no one, _going to tell me what's going on between those two?" Lydia asked pointedly, gesturing helplessly towards the other room.

For just an instant, the two ghosts looked hopelessly guilty, as if whatever was wrong with her parents, was actually all their fault. "Oh…" Barbara murmured, clearly distraught, clasping her hands together unhappily. "Oh, I'm sorry Lydia, it's all our fault…!"

"Now, that's not true, Barbara." Adam interrupted, before the living girl could, giving his wife an even stare. "We can't help what we are, any more than he can. This is just… something we're going to have to work through." He cleared his throat, tapped on the table lightly, in an unconscious 'knock on wood' manner, and turned away again, doing his best to look like he believed his own words. "We'll get through this, just fine. You'll see."

Lydia wasn't buying it, and from the expression on Barbara's face, neither was she. _We can't help being what we are…_ Which meant that this was about her father. And them being ghosts. And her stupid, short-sighted _death-phobic_ father. And surprisingly, even _considering _their lifelong friendship, her mother was taking the Maitlands' side in this little fiasco, over his. She wondered if that was going to make things better for everyone, or worse.

Lydia bit her thumb, considering the two, now silent, no longer trying to play like everything was fine. Well, hell. Just wait until her dad found out about Beetlejuice and Vincent. And well, _everything_. "Idiot." She muttered under her breath, making no effort to pretend she might be referring to anyone else.

"Now Lydia, that's no way to talk about your father-" Adam was saying, only to be cut off as Lydia rose to her feet, ignoring her plate, and stormed from the kitchen without another word. Worried, he exchanged a glance with his wife, and quickly followed. This was Lydia after all. There was no telling _what_ she was about to do.

Her parents fell silent again as Lydia walked right up to them, looking from one to the other, fury burning in her gaze. "Are you two done being stupid yet?" She hissed, showing an open disrespect and defiance of her parents that shocked everyone there into silence. "Do you two realize that while you were so busy sniping at each other all night, you didn't even realize I wasn't _here_?"

Utter, shocked silence greeted her confession… Clearly, none of them knew what to make of this. "Do you know where I spent last night?" She went on, without hesitation, grabbing a leaf stem that had been itching at her scalp, and pulling it free from her hair, holding her prize up for display. "I spent the night in the _woods_. By _myself_. I was actually afraid of coming home, and you guys yelling at me for it, but _you_… You're completely clueless! All because of some stupid shit that hasn't changed since the day I was _born_!"

There, she was done. She'd gotten it all out. Her chest heaving, her eyes burning, confused and angry, and shocked herself at her own outburst. Damn, and she'd gotten away with it, too. Why the hell had she just done that?

No one was talking. No one said a word.

"Lydia…" Barbara whispered finally, weakly, unsurprisingly the first to break the silence. "No matter what's wrong here, you shouldn't have-"

"You were _where_?" Her father interrupted coldly, giving her a look that could wilt roses. Lydia just laughed, a little crazily, utterly unimpressed by any threat he might pose. Clearly he had _no _idea what she was used to dealing with. Coldness quickly gave way to fury, and he took an angry step in her direction… ready to do what, she didn't know…

When her mother, not the pinnacle of emotional stability at the best of time, wilted right there in front of everyone, falling to her knees, and started sobbing. Just utterly wrenching tears and gulps of air, with no attempt at speech, leaving everyone there surprised and speechless for a second time. And for a second time, it was Barb who crossed the distance between them, falling at Olivia's side, and taking the younger woman in her arms, comfortingly. "Oh, Liv…"

Leaving Lydia standing there, heart pounding, mind refusing to make any sense at all. But she only stood there for a few seconds, before a second impulse gripped her, this time to get the hell away from _all _of them. Grinning a little madly, mostly because she didn't feel like smiling at all, she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and with a decisive stride, left both her sets of parents there, without another word.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she yanked the door to her room open, slammed it shut behind her, and grabbed the black lipstick off her dresser, all without stopping. Not even giving herself a chance to give it a second thought, she wrote in big black letters, on the inside of her door, '_STAY OUT_.'

Then, hiccupping, but not crying, she grabbed her dresser, and with force of will more than strength, dragged it across the heavily carpeted floor, and barricaded herself in her room. She didn't know if the sign would do anything to keep the Maitlands out, it seemed like a pretty dumb idea already, but at least her mom and dad would leave her the hell alone.

At last, completely isolated, she too fell to the floor, shaking, angry, confused. She wanted to call Beetlejuice, but she could only do that if she was in _danger_… and tracking him down herself would mean leaving her room. Her second impulse was to find Vincent, to just sob out her story, certain he wouldn't think any less of her, and let his strong arms hold her until she stopped shaking…

And then she dismissed that idea too, less consciously, as something soft brushed against her fingertips, drawing her from her misery long enough to recognize the standoffish black and white cat she'd rescued nearly four years before. An animal that usually only paid her any attention when she had something it wanted. Currently staring at her with what felt like very familiar green eyes.

With a groan, and no regard to the risk she was taking if Loki didn't feel like being held, she swept the enormous fur-ball into her arms, and buried her face in his back, breathing deeply of his warm animal smell. It was so simple. So uncomplicated. And then, to her further confusion, for the first time she could remember, the huge cat began to purr.

And then she just held him, and pointedly didn't care about anything for a while.

----------------

A soft, musical _tinking_ tried repeatedly to rouse her from her grief exhausted sleep, but stubbornly Lydia pushed back at her threatening consciousness, retreating ever deeper into a place where things just couldn't hurt her. And that was all it was for a while, that darkness, and the soft demand for her attention, like glass bells.

Gradually though, she became aware of another sound, heavier, wooden. Someone at her door. She tried to ignore this too, but these demands were less polite, more persistent… _loud_. She lifted her head from the rough carpet, and blinked, her eyes crusty from tears, the imprint of the shaggy yarn pressed into her cheek. She rubbed at the spot, more annoyed by this than her blurred vision, and frowned, looking up at her own _'KEEP OUT_' sign.

"Lydia? Lydia Deetz, open this door right now!" Adam. Trying to sound in control. When clearly he couldn't even walked through her wall, despite being a ghost. She felt an odd little stab of satisfaction, that her makeshift 'spell' had worked. "Lydia? Lydia…" His tone dropped, becoming just a trace more desperate. "Please, let us in. We need to talk."

"No." Lydia rasped, not even trying to pretend she was doing what she was supposed to any more, hugging Loki tightly to her chest, until he growled, and kissing his tasseled black ears. "Go away. Leave me alone, or I swear I'll leave again."

Silence fell between them, the man on the other side of the door suddenly very aware that the girl wasn't bluffing, and very aware of just how little control any of them had over her anymore, if she didn't want it. It had to be the worst, most helpless feeling in the world, for any parent… And her gut churned over it, even as she told herself stubbornly that she didn't care.

And then, quietly, defeated, Barb murmured, "Please don't leave, Lydia. If you need some time alone, we'll respect that. Just please don't run away from us." It was so completely wrong. Barb, begging her to stay, when there was nowhere else in the world she belonged more, than here, with them.

But there it was, followed by the sound of the two of them moving away. There was no sign at all of her parents. She was left alone.

Just like she'd wanted.

She squeezed Loki again, and again he growled, angry for her, when she felt like she was just too far past feeling anything, to be angry anymore. And she kissed his tasseled ear again, even though she knew, by the rapid twitching of his tail, that he'd turn on her at any moment, any attempts at comfort, for whatever reason they'd been offered, forgotten.

And then, again, the soft musical '_tinking_' sound, coming from behind her. She tried to stand, the large tomcat still in her arms, but this last insult proved to be too much for him, and without a sound he struck out at her, claws bared. Hissing in surprise and pain, she dropped him, rather ungracefully, only for the cat to bolt the moment his feet touched the floor, vanishing under her bed. Two green eyes, glaring out angrily at the world at large, and her in particular.

Puzzled, and relieved by the chance to deal with something as simple as a scratched hand, Lydia put the joint between thumb and index finger against her lips, tasting a faint coppery hint as the tiny drops of blood swelled against her tongue. Then the sound repeated itself again, and this time, realizing where it was coming from, Lydia turned to her mirror. "Vincent?"

"My Lydia?" Something like fear touched the prince's voice, as he gazed at her from the other side of the glass, not waiting this time for permission before he peered in at her. "You were so still, I feared… And then you rose, but your words with your parents…" He looked baffled, and angry, and overall, like he just wanted to fix whatever was happening, so she wouldn't have to be upset anymore. "Lydia, what is going on?"

There were so many answers to that question… Lydia bit the flap of skin between her teeth now, before drawing her hand away, and giving the prince a look that she was certain she'd hate herself for, if she could see it. She was _not_ a girl who played damsel in distress… But that had to be what she looked like, just then. And faced with the opportunity to spill all her problem on her own personal prince charming's shoulder… She realized that this was actually the last thing she wanted to do.

"My parents are fighting." She whispered, her voice oddly bereft of emotion. "I think I made things worse… I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get out of here for a while." Running away, just as Barb had begged her not to do…

Vincent extended his hand though, through the glass, with a shimmering like crystal water. Offering a way out. "Lydia… Come with me. I'll see that we're not disturbed."

For one instant, she thought about refusing. One instant of realizing she actually gave a damn about the family beyond that door, regardless of how badly things seemed to be going. A sense of reason, that said she should go out there, talk to them, try to figure this out… Just as Adam had said.

But one instant was all she gave such brave thoughts, and then she smiled, miserably, and started to take Vincent's hand…

Only to freeze, her fingers a breath from his, her eyes widening briefly as she remembered something. "My poncho…" She murmured, even though this wasn't what she'd been thinking of at all. "The neitherworld is too cold for me without it."

The prince frowned, just a little, concealing what seemed to be a deeper concern behind his eyes, as he murmured encouragingly, "There are a number of far finer coats I could have for you, at my call, dear Lydia. That ragged thing doesn't suit you now… If it ever did."

She just looked at him, puzzled. Not certain herself why she wanted to wear it now, when she'd looked at it with such disdain only a week before. _But, it was a gift from Beej_… She thought, the edges of her eyes softening, as she unconsciously reached for a ring that wasn't there. _It even smells like him a little. If I'm wearing it, it'll be like I have both of them with me._

"I like it." Was all she said, softly. A silly little statement, when he knew full well how dismissively she'd treated the thing in the past. But Vincent, being the man that he was, didn't protest, just nodding. Lydia left him there without another word, walking to the desk he'd given her, and pulling out the secret drawer that she stored all of her most precious treasures in. The poncho of course, right on top.

Pulling it out, she shook it, once, to straighten the wrinkles, and pulled it over her head smoothly… Not yet turning away from the drawer Instead, she crouched lower, and stuck her arm all the way into the bottom, beneath all her other little odds and ends, until her fingers closed on the cool, smooth circlet she'd hidden away.

It felt right, the ratted length of cotton falling around her neck again, even as she tucked the ring away safely beneath her clothes, hidden from prying eyes. Maybe it shouldn't be a lie. Maybe she should get a chain for it. But she'd still keep that first shoelace tucked safely away in her drawer…

_I just need to know I'm not alone, _she thought to herself, sliding the drawer closed again, wondering why she felt the need to rationalize her desire to wear something that had been part of her for so long… Then letting the worry go.

She walked back to her mirror, and looked at the man waiting for her on the other side… Eyes gentle, concerned. Mouth softened tenderly, as he reached his hand for her again. He was exactly what she needed just then. The neitherworld was exactly what she needed just then. And if she was being selfish…? Well, everyone else in her life was being selfish today, why not her too?

Her mind made up, Lydia took the prince's hand, felt a gentle tug at her wrist, and vanished.

-----------------


	9. Secrets and Lies

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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This should divide the Vincent versus Beetlejuice camp a little further... Though I'm not sure whether it says more about my writing if it does, or if it doesn't. Hmm. Either way, I apologize for the massive amounts of, um, I believe the term is exposition, but I hope it still turned out well.

Secrets are exposed, questions are answered, and the rest will hopefully sort itself out.

----------------

The last place Lydia expected to end up, after being pulled so dramatically through the mirror atop her dresser- without ever having actually approached her dresser closely enough to do so- was the demure and proper prince's bedroom. But as she emerged from the full length mirror along the wall, almost tumbling into her boyfriend's arms as she failed to catch her balance, it quickly became clear that this was exactly where she was.

Wondering absently whether she should be suspicious, she dismissed the idea in almost the same instant… Even if she would be, if it were anyone but the prince. Rather than worrying, she leaned harder into his arms, burying her face in his chest, and sucked in a deep breath of the tingling energy that surrounded him… Making her briefly want to cough, then soothing her, gently, from somewhere deep in her chest. Something that was right. Something the way it _should _be.

She didn't say a word, and neither did he, just putting his arms around her tightly, more decisively than she could remember the shy prince being before. Like all of a sudden, he'd just decided that he never wanted to let her go again.

"What happened?" He asked at last, tightly, angrily. "What did they do to you?" Every bit the young man ready to go to war for her, if he thought he needed to. As if _her_ easy-going parents had ever so much as lifted a finger against her. She wondered what his parents were like, for him to just assume the worst that way…

Then, she was a mess, wasn't she? Almost as bad as her mom had been, probably… "They didn't do anything to me." She muttered bitterly, the hurt in her tone calling the words a lie. "I don't want to talk about it. I just needed to get out of there for a while." She rubbed her fingers at the corner of her eyes, trying to clear the last stubborn emotion from them without her boyfriend noticing, and sighed, finally drawing away enough to look at him.

He looked, different somehow. More aggressive. Very ready to fight or be angry, whichever she demanded. Stronger somehow, than she'd expected the quiet prince to ever look, even as much as he'd changed this last year.

Guiltily, she touched his cheek in an effort at comfort, kissing the corner of his chin fleetingly. "It's okay. I'm all right." A small pause. "I promise."

Vincent looked dubious, but seemed to realize she wasn't going to say anymore… And probably didn't want to call her a liar. "As you wish, my Lydia." He murmured, reluctantly releasing his grip on her. Looking for all the world like, now that there was no one to hurt for hurting her, he wasn't sure what to do. "You may, stay here as long as you please. I will attend to anything you need."

The goth girl nodded, drawing limp black strands back from a still sticky face, and took her first good look around. Her first reaction was surprise, at how utterly Spartan the chamber was, for a prince's bedroom. A bed, a tall wardrobe, a nightstand, and a throw rug, across the otherwise bare stone floor, were all it offered, other than the mirror she'd come in through… And a tall, simple chair, just opposite it. Not much furniture, in a room the size of some small houses.

She considered the chair for a long moment, wondering how often he sat there, gazing into that iron-wrought mirror, far taller than either of them. A black velvet curtain fell across half its face, obscuring anything she could make out immediately, but as she left him, and moved to the glass, she was certain she could make out the details of her own room on the other side, instants before they faded to nothing. It was… a little unsettling, to realize that this was probably it's only purpose.

Pursing her lips, she turned away, and continued her self-given tour of her boyfriend's bedroom, running her hands slowly across the flat, lackluster wooden posts of his bed, eyeing the unadorned wardrobe a few yards away… And finally, turned to his nightstand, with its solitary decoration.

It took her a minute to realize what she was looking at, it was certainly familiar, largely because it was her, but it wasn't a picture she'd ever seen before. She recognized the dress quickly… And a moment later, understood the blur of green blue and light standing beside her, to be Vincent. A smile touched the corner of her mouth, as she realized that the prince had stolen her mother's picture of them, so many Halloweens ago. It was touching that he'd kept it so long, right where he could see it every night…

Lifting the silver frame, she turned to him with a grin, making him quickly look like maybe he'd done something he shouldn't, his gaze growing somber, despite the fact that he didn't look away. "It was the night I knew I loved you." He said simply, after an extended moment of silence. Lydia's insides lurched a little, and she didn't know what to say. That long ago? He'd known _that _long?

She set the picture frame back down, probably more gently than necessary, and wondered briefly what she'd been thinking, running from one mess of confusion into another. He loved her. She _wanted _to say it back. She really did. She just wasn't sure what it meant yet. It was a really big word… _Love_…

But he'd been willing to marry her that night, hadn't he?

"If it troubles you," Vincent interrupted softly, breaking the heavy silence, "I won't say it anymore. Not unless you want me to." His large, gentle hand, closing over her shoulder, drew her from her thoughts. She turned in surprise, to find herself almost face to face with him… And her whole body turned deliciously, tinglingly warm. They were inches apart, it would be so easy to kiss him…

He dropped his lips lightly to the place between her eyebrows, lingering there, tasting the softness of her skin, before drawing away again, as he gave her hand a light squeeze. She couldn't look away from his eyes… They were endless, full of mystery and adoration. She felt like she could look into them forever, and still not find out everything there was to know about this man…

Wait.

Blinking slowly, she drew herself out of the heady daze she'd fallen into, and forced herself to take a step back, if just to think clearly for a second. Mysteries, secrets… Right. She looked up at him again, more curious this time. Not sure if she was ready to put her question into words. After a moment, all she asked, was, "I'm not supposed to be in here, am I?" The prince looked briefly puzzled, and didn't offer an immediate reply. "Are we going to get in trouble for this?" Even if this was pretty much the last thing she gave a damn about…

A slow, hard expression formed on the dead man's lips… Then was gone, almost as quickly. "I do not think there are many left in this castle," He said at last, with some small degree of certainty, "Who are willing to question what I do or don't do these days, my Lydia."

It seemed like an odd statement to her, since she knew how, for so long, he'd been so _careful_ to do everything right where his family was concerned. She wondered what was different now, and if it had anything to do with this new, bolder version of her boyfriend, who of late no longer tip-toed around _anything_… Except maybe with her. A little.

Secrets indeed. It seemed she wasn't the only one keeping them, these days… She considered him for a long moment, then nodded, and deliberately turned her attention elsewhere, giving her a minute to decide whether this change was something she liked or not.

"Not a lot of places to sit." She noted softly. She was not about to sit on his bed, however she'd been pushing things to go further just a short time before… She wasn't in _that_ big a hurry. Especially with so much going on in her life, and so many questions now up in the air.

Vincent cleared his throat, putting his hand gently in the small of her back, and turned her… Leaving her facing a plush burgundy seat now standing ready behind her, just large enough to seat two. Like he'd pulled it out of nowhere. "I would have made the room more livable, if I'd known you were coming." He murmured, twitching the fingers of his opposite hand slightly, as a quick breeze kicked up around them, momentarily blurring her eyes…

When her vision cleared, everything had changed. Gone were the simple bed and wardrobe, the barren rug, the unadorned chair. In their places, that quickly, were tapestries that rippled with dark colors, statues that cast jagged and beautiful shadows, plump velvet pillows that begged to be held, and a delicately etched table offering two high-backed chairs, and a bounty of foods, both living world, and neitherworld.

Lydia just stared, completely unable to think of anything worth saying. She'd never seen the prince use his magic in this kind of display, like he'd all the power in the neitherworld to call on all along, and had simply never told her… And this? Well this was nothing at all. He'd barely had to try. Even Beetlejuice had never used magic around her so much at once… Just how strong was this guy?

_Parlor tricks_, she swore she heard her best friend's voice grunt dismissively in the back of her mind, _Best part of doing this shit, is making people think it's a bigger deal than it is. You'd be fucking amazed what you can get people to fall for._

Lydia blinked, and rubbed her temple lightly, certain she'd heard him use those words before, and a little unsettled that they came to mind now. From the eager, puppy dog look in the prince's eyes, he hadn't been trying to prove a damn thing… He just wanted her to like what he'd done, and be happy. _I've been around Beej too long_, she muttered to herself silently, managing a small smile in Vincent's general direction, _Not everyone's out to screw people over, just because they let their guard down._

And then she felt guilty, thinking of Beetlejuice that way at all… Even if it was more or less true.

"Um, wow." She managed at last, shaking her head. "Definitely an improvement, I've gotta-" She broke off abruptly, as something sweet-smelling and rich took over her senses, making her forget what she'd been trying to say, as her stomach tightened angrily inside her, reminding her that she hadn't eaten any of Barb's delicious looking breakfast that morning. "Oh my god," She whispered under her breath, more impressed by this, than his previous show of magic, "Is that pumpkin pie?"

"One of the few delicacies enjoyed by living and dead alike, from what I understand." He agreed, looking as pleased with her reaction as if he'd made it himself. "Have you ever tried the neitherworld version?"

"No," She murmured honestly, crossing to the table, lifting the entire pie bowl, and inhaling deeply of its wonderful scent, "But if it tastes half as good as it smells, I'm totally killing Beej for not introducing me to this stuff sooner!"

Vincent urged her to eat after this, and well, Lydia didn't need much encouragement. Oddly though, he didn't join her in more than a few small samplings of his own, apparently content just to watch her enjoy her own meal. In fact, he seemed oddly fascinated by how hungry she was, as if it were a completely unknown sensation to him…

Since this was usually how their meals together went though, she wasn't completely surprised… But she was beginning to wonder. Did the guy bother to eat at all, when she wasn't there?

She considered him from the corner of her eye, trying to think of the right way to ask what was actually weighing on her mind. Already she was sick of there being something hanging silently between them, and well, now that Beetlejuice _knew_ there was, there was no telling what kind of trouble he'd get into, trying to dig something up. And of course, that brought up the fact that once she did know, Beetlejuice would want details… And the whole point to her asking in the first place, was to know something about him that he trusted her enough to tell her.

Fuck.

Before she could say a word about it though, Vincent suddenly interrupted her brooding- which still didn't make the pie she was eating any less wonderful, amazingly- with a question of his own. "I wish to be certain Lydia, that I do not miss the day…" He prompted, making her look up, mouth full of pumpkin filling, and wonder bemusedly what she was in for now, "Your birthday… It will be celebrated at the end of this week, yes?"

Lydia started chewing again, slowly, before nodding. Reflecting that Vincent always remembered, whether she said anything about it or not. She doubted Beetlejuice even had any idea what _month _it was… "Uh-huh." She murmured, managing to remember to swallow first. "Um… Vincent? Why haven't you ever told me when your birthday is?" Vincent, strangely, grew quiet. "I mean… You never want to talk about any of that. Remember when I asked you how old you were? You started talking about… something else. I can't even remember what."

"I… believe it was when your school year would end." Vincent noted quietly, seeming to take his first real interest in the meal set out before them… Even if it was only to pour himself a glass of tall, amber-colored liquid, bubbling and hissing softly. "I take a great deal of interest in knowing your routine. And knowing when you will be able to spend more time in my company."

That did make sense. But… "Okay," She agreed, pushing the remainder of her pie away a little, even though she was only half finished. "But when is your birthday? Why won't you let me celebrate it with you? Because of your family?"

Vincent lifted his eyes to her, and cracked a small, humorless smile. "I assure you, any family of mine found reason to stop celebrating _my_ birthday long ago, my Lydia." A small, brief pause, where he seemed to consider hiding behind his drink, before he murmured quietly, "If it is of such interest to you… My birthday is the fifteenth of March, by the standards set in your world."

So… that was it? The fifteenth of March. The _Ides_ of March, if she was right. So fucking what? Why not just tell her, the first time she'd asked? He was keeping something from her, and if she wasn't going to work up the nerve to ask him about his big secret, she was going to at least figure this one out. "So why didn't you want to tell me?" She demanded, more frustrated now, with an answer that offered no answer at all, than when he'd simply refused to tell her.

Again that small, tight look to his lips, like whenever she asked him something about his family, or his past, or anything of _him_, without _her_. His fingers twisted the wine glass slowly, and after a moment, he nodded. "Then you wish to know this time?" He asked quietly.

It took Lydia a moment to understand… And when she did, she was baffled. The big mystery was about his birthday? What the hell? "Sure," She agreed, suddenly feeling reckless, "Tell me now. What is it you're so worried about telling me?"

The prince pushed his glass away, untouched, sliding it to her. "Perhaps you should have something to drink, first." He noted quietly. Lydia's eyebrows flew up, in a sort of disbelief, but then she shrugged, accepted the wine glass from him, and swallowed the curiously strong liquid inside, in three swallows. It was unbelievably sweet, and burned all the way down, lighting a heat in her chest that left her briefly off balance. She'd tasted alcohol before, and this hadn't been very much… She didn't expect it to be so _strong_.

"Okay," She turned her attention back to the prince, the drink already sending little tendrils of soothing heat through every part of her body, and making her feel decidedly light headed. "I drank it. Now tell me."

A sigh escaped him, so quietly she almost didn't hear it, and Vincent nodded. "You recall what I was telling you then, before you stopped me?" He prodded gently, making her frown, and nod. "Then we will begin where I left off that night… The neitherworld changes us, Lydia. All of us. Even you."

Lydia made a sound of surprise, the first question on her lips stumbled as she tried to get it out too quickly. "Me?" She rasped, just the one word, in disbelief.

"Of course, Lydia. You are part of the neitherworld now." His eyes seemed strange, sympathetic, as if suspecting she didn't really want to hear this. "You breathe its air, eat its food… spend time within its spectral constraints of reality. Did you really think that this would have no effect on you at all?"

She wasn't sure how to answer that. "But… I'm human." She pointed out at last, feeling like the words just didn't even begin to convey the confusion she was feeling. "I mean… I'm _alive_. Isn't there some rule against that?"

"Just as there is a rule against the living entering this land of the dead?" He pointed out, looking, as she thought, inappropriately amused by the idea. "Did it not occur to you that waiving the limitations of one, might well affect the other as well? Lydia… Your time in the neitherworld _has _affected you. In no adverse way, to be certain… But you are not the person you would have been, had you never come here."

Slowly, Lydia turned this over. More slowly, she pushed the glass she'd just drunk out of, away, eyeing it suspiciously. Did Beetlejuice know about this? Damn him, he probably did… When she'd asked him to tell him something about himself, she'd never expected Vincent to-

Wait. Something here wasn't right. Her gut lurched, and for a moment, the world spun, before her vision settled itself on the prince once more. "I asked you to tell me a secret about _yourself_." She pointed out quietly, suddenly suspecting that there was far more to the story he'd yet to tell. "All you've told me so far-"

"-Is that the neitherworld's magic affects us all, each in our own unique way." He finished, quietly. "While this may be true of you as well, I only used you as an example. It hadn't occurred to me that you did not already know." A small pause. "I apologize if it upset you, finding out this way."

Lydia's lips twisted, her deep eyes flashing as she rose to her feet. "Any other little side notes you'd like to make before you get to the point?" She demanded, suddenly angry, and lacking any other direction for the emotion to focus on, targeting him as the reason. "Are you telling me that whatever you haven't told me…" She waved her arm wildly, indicating herself. "It's going to bother me more than _this_?"

The prince looked briefly puzzled. "But Lydia…" He protested, uncertain, "You're… Beautiful."

Any other time, that would have been great to hear… As it was, for some reason she didn't understand herself, it did calm her a little, even now. Well. Well, so she was affected, somehow, but at least her boyfriend still thought she was beautiful. That made her feel better.

Then again, maybe it was just the wine. "Go on." She murmured, a little more in control again, though she'd yet to sit back down.

For a moment, Vincent looked vaguely liked he'd lost track of his own words, and then made a small, stifled sound, and nodded, looking… apologetic. "A Royal, born to this life of death, is shaped from the moment we are born. Our appearance then, granted by that of what our parents would have been, had _they_ remained unchanged. After that… we are on our own in its making. Lydia… This applies to everything about our appearance. Do you understand?"

Clearly she didn't, so the living girl shook her head, not saying a word this time, just waiting, and wishing she'd never begun this stupid game. She knew not to ask questions about the things she liked about the neitherworld. She'd said as much to Beetlejuice, just the week before. Ignorance was fucking _bliss_… Even if she didn't buy that for shit, really.

"Lydia, in your world, the way a person changes inside, is often affected by the changes made to them first, physically." He went on, building steam now, less wavering than he was before. "A child grows, and as they grow, parts of their mind change with their body's changes, and this is how an infant becomes a child, and a child an adult. Everything is synched."

"But understand… That isn't the way it works here. A child who is forced to grow too soon, emotionally, will grow physically as well. And a child who is not ready to grow up…" For the first time in his speech, he hesitated, and seemed reluctant to meet her eyes. "Will, not."

For a long time after this, he made no more attempt to explain anything, as if right there, in the words he'd just offered, was the gist of what he'd been trying to keep from her all along. And Lydia waited, like there had to be more. But there wasn't. And at last, all she could ask, was the question that had started this whole thing. "Vincent… How old _are _you?"

And the man whose eyes ran so deeply, lifted that gaze, and uttered emotionlessly, "Two hundred and forty-one, my Lydia."

Lydia just stared. Well. _Well_. There really was nothing to say to that, except maybe repeating it. "Two hundred and forty-one…" The words left her mouth in a surprised hiss, as she found herself, almost against her will, sinking back down into her seat. She suddenly felt stupid, for just assuming that things worked the same way here, as… "So when you met me, you were…"

This though, was all she said, math being one of those things her confused brain couldn't even think of attempting just then. After a moment, Prince Vincent supplied the missing numbers. "Two hundred, and thirty-eight." He agreed quietly. Clearly ready for her to react badly.

And hell, she had every reason, didn't she? _Two hundred and thirty-eight_, and he'd been dating her when she was _twelve_. What. The. Fuck.

But she had to be sure she had a better reason to be angry, than cultural differences, or some shit. Maybe sure he'd actually done some stupid shit, by his standards, as well as hers, before she could get really pissed. "So, you were still a kid though, right?" She asked slowly, already watching his expression sharply for some sign that he'd try to deceive her again… Whether or not he really had so far.

"Well…" He sat back a little, his gaze growing marginally more guarded, almost as she'd expected. "Neitherworld law had little regard over whether a person is ready to age, or even whether or not they have shown any aging, physically, from the time they were born." A small pause, then, "_Legally_, we are recognized as adults upon our seventeenth birthday. However-"

"Fuck!" Lydia yelled, standing up so fast she almost fell over, and casting anything further that the prince might have said into silence. "Even Beej wasn't going after me when I was _twelve_, Vincent! What the _hell_? You were an _adult_?"

A long, long silence followed this, where it was clear to her eyes, Vincent suddenly wanted to take back everything he'd just said to her, and be anywhere else, but being asked to finish his words. "Legally." He repeated at last, very quietly. "Though that doesn't change the fact that one is still seen as a child, so long as one still sees themselves as a child."

_One_, he said, now distancing himself from the explanation somehow. As if it was just no longer about him. As if this was the only way he could bear to continue explaining this to her. Lydia's gut twisted, in something like guilt. She still didn't _understand_. That was the bottom line, wasn't it? Like he'd said, the world still considered him a child. He still considered himself a child. In the living world, that would be a load of shit… But this wasn't the living world, was it?

"Explain." She offered at last, as calmly as possible, her insides currently participating in what felt like a death match to claim the new current champion of her guts. "Tell me why I shouldn't be angry. Why I shouldn't feel like you _lied _to me."

At this though, Vincent just shook his head, grimly. "But I did lie to you, Lydia." He confessed, looking anywhere but at the girl he'd so recently confessed to loving. "I simply, didn't know it was a lie. I had no means of knowing that things worked differently for the living… Death is all I've ever known."

His eyes flicked up, briefly. "Please, understand _why _I saw myself this way. Until I knew you Lydia… I felt broken and cast aside. Like nothing I did had any meaning or purpose. As helpless and unready to face my position, or my afterlife, as anything but a child. Anything I had to say, disregarded, anything I cared for, belittled… I wasted away year after year, until I became a slight, grief-looking half-child, to reflect what I felt inside. Meeting you…"

"Meeting me…" Lydia echoed, suddenly no longer mad, but just a little overwhelmed, scared by what the prince was not yet saying. "You grew up, because of me?"

A small, helpless smile touched her boyfriend's lips. "You were unlike any I had met before. You were kind, and unafraid of anything, and you cared for me, for _me_, and not my title. You made me feel stronger, just by knowing you. You made me _want_ to be stronger. For you. To be someone… who you could love, in turn."

"Lydia, knowing you, being with you? For the first time in my life, I felt capable of _anything_. I didn't realize myself what that meant, until one day I looked in the mirror to find you, and saw myself… And saw how I had changed." A hesitation, as suddenly, despite what had almost been a furiously pouring explanation before now, his mind seemed to offer him nothing more to say. Nothing to explain what he was really trying to tell her.

"I would do anything for you, Lydia." He said at last, quietly, suddenly nothing between them at all, in a way even bare skin couldn't leave her feeling more exposed. "And I will. I'm strong enough now. Because of you."

And once again, what was there to say? Lydia closed her eyes, and rubbed the corner of her jaw, which was suddenly sore from clenching her teeth. Which she hadn't even realized she was doing. _One drink was not enough for this shit…_ She reflected with an inner sigh, before opening her eyes again, and considering the guy across from her, who'd probably been going crazy with guilt, once he realized-

Well hell, it _was _just a cultural difference, wasn't it? How the hell could she be mad about that? Even if it _seemed_ like common sense, as far as she was concerned… She considered the prince, tiredly, abruptly deciding she'd just had too much drama already for one day, and just didn't have the strength to be mad at him just then.

And she sure as hell wasn't going to go poking at any more rotting staircases until she got some decent sleep. She wasn't completely nuts.

So she sat there, just sort of regarding him… Chin propped up on her fist, suddenly feeling like this just wasn't enough reason to get angry. And hell, the guy had grown up for her. That was more than a lot of living world guys ever did for the woman in their lives, figuratively or otherwise. "Huh." She said at last, quietly. "So it wasn't really a big secret from everyone, just me."

"Yes." He agreed quietly, after a moment's pained silence.

"Good," She murmured, straightening slowly, and reaching for her pumpkin pie again- not because she really had any appetite left, but just because it was so damn good- "Because I'm going to ream the fuck out of Beej for not telling me sooner himself. I mean, what the fuck? He had to know, right?" She shot him a glance that, clearly, the prince couldn't tell how to read, just nodding, wordlessly. "Good. Then him I can be pissed at. Because he sure as fuck knew the difference."

She didn't sound angry anymore though, and in fact, wasn't. Two great emotional blows from two different sides, just sort of cancelling each other out, in a way she really didn't want to think about. She didn't even care if the food she was eating _was _affecting her anymore… After all, it was a little too late to give a damn about that, wasn't it?

But there was still one question to be asked… "So, is that why I haven't grown in years?" She asked quietly, the answer to this somehow more important than anything else she'd asked yet. "Because I'm still just a kid too? Because I'm not ready to grow up?" In those moments, she'd believe anything…

Vincent looked, more than anything, surprised. "You… don't look anything like a child." He denied quietly, as if this had just come completely out of left field, and he had no idea what she was talking about at all.

"Come on," She gestured to herself, with a halfhearted wave of her hand. "I still look like I'm fucking twelve. _Beej _hasn't even noticed I'm a teenager. And he's got some kind of crazy laser vision, for anything remotely jumpable… He probably hasn't even noticed I've gotten older at all!"

The prince stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, suddenly looking more frustrated now, than he had when trying to defend himself to her. Like he just wouldn't hear her talk down about herself that way. "You are not a child…" He denied, almost angrily, "And Beetlejuice is nothing short of a fool if he has failed to see that as well as I do! You have, held onto your innocence, your fascination, certainly. You see the world much the way you always have, and this is a reason I am so _fascinated _by you… So you are child-_like_, that does not make you a child, nor mean you should be mistaken for one!"

"Child-like…" Lydia echoed softly. That, wasn't so bad. Not really. It just meant the way she _saw_ the world hadn't changed, and well… She honestly never wanted it to. In a lot of ways, she did still feel like everything was new, sort of an elaborate game, especially when she was with her best friend, exploring the neitherworld. The idea of becoming jaded over something like _that_…!

Ignoring her forkful of filling, she bit the thumb of her opposite hand, and nodded slowly. "So… That's the price for being part of the neitherworld?" She asked at last, considerably more willing to accept the prince's explanation, over her own.

"Yes." He agreed softly, saying no more than this. Just waiting, to all appearances, to see how she'd react to everything thus far… Until finally the silence was too much, and he prompted, hesitantly, "Are you… all right, then?"

"Ask me after I've gotten a chance to think clearly." She answered honestly, her lips curving in a halfhearted smile, regardless. "My mind's a hella mess right now."

Vincent frowned, just a little. "That, may have been the wine…" He noted, uncertainly. "Perhaps I should not…"

"Shut up, Vincent." Lydia sighed, giving him an exasperated look. "I'm not mad right now, don't tear yourself apart wondering why, okay? Just relax, and pass me those buttery looking rolls." Slowly, clearly not convinced he'd gotten off so easily, Vincent handed her the basket in question. Lydia accepted them, then paused, eyebrows knitting up briefly. "Living world, or neitherworld?" She'd had quite enough unexpected surprises for one day, _thank you very much…_

"Ah, living world." He offered, still watching her like he expected some sort of delayed fury, and only slowly seeming to realize that none was forthcoming.

They sat there in silence for a while after this, Lydia eating, Vincent still seeming to have no appetite, and content to watch her. When she broke the silence again, it was with an odd sense of having her feelings well gathered under her again. "So, I guess I missed your birthday?" She prompted, as if this were all she'd really gotten out of the conversation. "I could still get you a present, though." And once again, the living world girl simply left Vincent too baffled to offer any answer at all.

But the fact was, she _wasn't_ done with this yet. She still had some things to straighten out with Beetlejuice… _Then _she'd decide where things stood with her and the prince. If he was telling the truth- And well, she had no reason to believe he wasn't- Then, maybe, _maybe, _she could forgive him. After all, if that was the worst secret he'd ever kept from her…

Well, then it should be smooth sailing _now_… Right?

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	10. Nothing Ever Simple

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Okay, so I was corrected by a couple sharp eyed readers, the Ides of March is the fifteenth, not the fifth. I've changed the last chapter accordingly. Man, this chapter is long! And I'm really worried about the flow. I mean, more than usual. I'm afraid I sprang too much at once, especially after the last chapter. But gosh darn it, it ties in, tightly, to well, _everything_! All the fics! And I couldn't think of any better way to write it! I mean, remember how I said some things change, and some things stay the same, no matter what? It can be pretty hard, picking out which is which... But some things? They're more or less written in stone. Regardless of whether it's Lydia was Late, Lydia was Early, or A Simple Change of Fate. No, not Only to Her... That's off in another time zone of reality... so to speak.

Hmm... Tell me how this flows, okay? I feel like it's kind of jerky... But hey, I did my best. And like I said... It _does_ tie in. Um, maybe you should forget this whole part up here, and just read the story. ^^;

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Lydia wasn't sure exactly what time she'd come home the night before… Mostly because after hours of exploring the castle, oddly without any interruptions, investigating the royal gardens, again, and riding through the neitherwoods for an eternity on end- She'd made a point of _not_ looking at her clock when she'd gotten home.

It had all been great, after the first explosive part in his room, and Lydia had, admittedly, been feeling much better by the time she came back through her mirror… So why exactly had she been laying in her bed restlessly for the past hour, tossing and turning, occasionally looking up at her canopy for familiar symbols no longer there, when she should have long since been up and getting ready?

Maybe it was Beetlejuice… Or the pointed lack of him. After he'd vanished the day before, she'd expected him to poke his head in some time this morning, with his usual rude wake up call, impatient to start having fun. But so far, no sign of the trouble making poltergeist. No sign of Adam, or Barb, or anyone. No good morning offered at all. So she just sort of laid there, rolling her ring between thumb and forefinger, and wondered if maybe she'd gone too far, telling her foster parents to back off.

With a slow stretch, another half hour in, she abandoned her vigil, and rose quietly, oddly subdued after everything that had happened the day before. There was kind of a sense of not knowing what was going to happen now… Everything had just been kind of left in the air.

Today was going to be, a telling day.

Rubbing at her cheeks, where tiny imprints lingered, left by her pillow, she walked slowly to her wardrobe, and aimlessly pulled out something to wear. She made no effort at trying to look nice, or even dark, and ended up pulling on an odd baby blue top… Where she'd gotten that, she really had no idea. Probably Grandma Delia.

Turning towards her mirror, she was dealt with a small surprise, to see the dresser beneath it, absent. She wasn't sure how the mirror was even still hanging up there. A moment of thought though, brought her tantrum of the day before back to mind… And she turned towards her door, to see the heavy piece of furniture propped against it at an odd angle, the words in black lipstick scrawled directly above.

Well hell, no wonder the Maitlands hadn't come in. Though she had to wonder just how much power the words '_Stay Out_' really had, written so carelessly… Even by a witch.

Was she really a witch? One more thing she'd put off thinking about… This was all going to catch up with her soon, she was sure of it.

Shaking her head, feeling suddenly foolish for her angry display, she edged herself in between the dresser and the door, put her shoulder down to the thick wood, and did her best to summon the strength she'd somehow managed to find the day before… Only to find herself really making no progress at all, against the thick carpet. How the hell had she done that in the first place?

Several efforts later had the dresser budged a good four feet, enough to reach the door, and with a grimace, wipe the ugly words off with her sleeve, ignoring the black smear this left across the soft sweater. Failing to do that, she at least managed to smudge the words beyond recognition… That should be good enough, right? She'd clean it up better, later.

Emerging into the quiet house felt, strange. Like everything was sort of eerily still. Lydia frowned, and tugged at a loose strand of her hair nervously, before tucking it behind her ear. She could only imagine there would be hell to pay for her performance the morning before… And _that _was if no one realized that she'd disappeared soon after, and been out most of the night.

Then again, how could they?

It remained that way, that sense of heavy aloneness as she strode down the stairs, expecting to see her parents at the bottom, maybe just where she'd left them. But there was no sign of Edmond or Olivia… And when she propped open the door of the kitchen, expectantly, no sign of either of the Maitlands either.

A dull sense of unease gripped at her stomach, as she walked through the empty kitchen. Utterly quiet. Not so much as a pot of coffee on, to tease her sense of smell. As if she were just the only one in the house. That was impossible of course… They were probably in the attic. She needed to go apologize… She must have upset them more than she meant to. Or at least, more than they deserved.

Delaying the awkward situation with a trip to the fridge, Lydia poured herself a tall cup of orange juice… And didn't actually drink any of it, putting it on the counter, and turning to make coffee instead. She knew how both Adam and Barb liked their coffee. She'd bring them some. Sort of a peace offering.

Soon the steady dripping and hissing of the coffee maker shattered the uncomfortable stillness of the kitchen, and Lydia considered, for a brief minute, trying to make breakfast for them too. At this point though, considering _her_ cooking skills, that would really just be useless procrastinating… She smirked at her reflection in the toaster, shook her head, and turned her attention to finding two suitable cups instead.

Once she'd stirred the coffee up, Adam liked sugar, no cream, while Barb like cream, and two sugars, she was left with the sudden question of how she was going to carry all the drinks up. In the end, her lonely little orange juice was left on the counter, ignored, while Lydia set to go make up with the two people she loved most in this world…

Taking the stairs slowly, careful not to spill, Lydia took first one flight, then the other… Ending her at the attic door, and suddenly, gripping her with a new fear. What if they weren't there either? What if they were just, gone?

But, that wasn't possible, right?

Tapping on the door softly with the toe of her foot, hesitantly, like she wasn't really ready to know the answer herself, she waited, for upwards of thirty seconds…

Adam swung open the door, saw his goddaughter on the other side, looking close to tears, two cups of coffee clenched in trembling hands, and made a soft sound of dismay. "Lydia…" He quickly scooped the cups from her, sending them into the air, and across the room, without so much as another thought for either of them, while the ghost man pulled the small girl into his arms. "Lydia, it's okay…"

"I'm so sorry…" She was whispering, asking for forgiveness now that it was given, tucking her face against his flannel shirt, and holding onto him with both fists. "God, I'm such a brat…"

"Lydia…" Barbara had been sweeping towards them this whole time, and now threw her arms around both, just holding tight to the goth girl and her husband, and bowing her head, soft eyes looking guilty, like she'd been the one to do something wrong. "Honey, that wasn't your fault. You just had a bad day. It's over now." Gently touching her chin, she tipped her daughter's face up, gently, meeting her eyes with a little smile. "We're not angry. I promise."

But it wasn't that simple. Lydia knew that. She'd used her power to keep them out… Used it _against _them. Power she shouldn't even have. Power she didn't understand… Power she was suddenly afraid she could have hurt them with. She just tightened her fingers more tightly on the soft cloth at Adam's chest, and swore silently to never, _never_ risk the two of them again, no matter what.

"I love you." She whispered, words that were so simple and true when she said them to the two of them… But made no sense when she tried to match them to anyone else.

"We know honey. We love you too." Adam said gently, not trying yet to disentangle the girl from his shirt. "You're not the first teenage girl that has tried to shut her parents out of her life…" A little more sternly, he added, "Now don't let it happen again!"

Lydia laughed, softly, finally drawing away. Feeling better again. …Until it occurred to her to wonder where her _other_ parents were. "Um…" She wiped her fingers across her eyes, smearing little trickles of black away, and resigning herself to the drama not being over quite yet, "Where are mom and dad?"

Immediately a tension fell over the two ghosts. Neither one answered right away, Adam fidgeting with his glasses, and Barbara looking like she wanted to talk about pretty much anything else. But it was Barbara who spoke. "Your parents are, talking." She said quietly, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. "Trying to figure some things out. They thought they should do it somewhere else."

Because of her. Well, damn it, fine. She could deal with that even later, then. "Right," She murmured aloud, determined this time not to let them see her reaction to the 'news,' "Guess it's just us then." Not that there was anything wrong with that, they were a hell of a lot easier to get along with than her so-called real parents.

"Right!" Barbara agreed, clearly already feeling better herself. "Now, who's up for some breakfast?"

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It was a chilly day, needlessly bright in her opinion, even if she usually loved sunny days… Not that she would ever admit it. The trees were filled with unfolding leaves, and new flowers, and the air was filled with sound… She walked along the street, feeling decidedly alone among the people who shared the road with her, and smiling, despite it. She didn't want to be unhappy anymore… It all didn't make much sense getting upset over anyway. She couldn't do a damn thing about her parents, and Vincent? Well hell, if he'd told her the truth from the beginning, she probably wouldn't even have cared.

'_Tck-tcking_' softly under her breath, she considered the people she passed, many she knew, many she didn't. Winter River was growing. She supposed that small towns did that. So many people, going about, living their lives… Neither knowing nor caring about the secrets she kept. She wasn't sure herself why she liked that.

A small stand filled with bright yellow flowers drew her attention, and despite herself she smiled, coming to a stop beside it. Black eyed susans… A heart of darkness, and an aura of warmth. Just about her favorite flowers in the world, beside purple irises. "How much?" She asked the woman behind the shaky looking wooden stand, who smiled at her, and asked for two dollars, looking more hurried and tired than she felt herself.

Lydia bought three bunches, wrapping them together with the rubber bands on the stems, until she had an armful of the bold things. She was late for her visit to the retirement home, but these should smooth over any laxness on her part… They'd make that dreary little place just a little more tolerable, and she was certain she'd get a few smiles in response. She could use a few extra smiles today.

Tucking her arms around them, carefully, she took her time, walking the rest of the way. The chill air felt good, it made her think of all the people she loved, and the adventures she'd yet to have in her own little secret playground. Spring was like fall… It just smelled, newer.

Pausing once the tall wooden building was in sight, Lydia curled her lip, involuntarily, in a grimace. It was so… falsely cheery. A perfect white, with a neat little fence, pink flowers, and the smell, or so she couldn't shake the notion, of stale baby powder, even lingering out here. Like some kindly grandmother's cottage… Only far too big, and lacking any of the warmth.

But she didn't come here for the decorations. She walked up to the door, a little hum on the curve of her lips, ready for a few rounds of jokes, and a few rounds of cards, and some friendly gossip that they had to make sure no one overheard. Oh, and cats. Lots of cats.

Knocking briskly on the door, making certain she'd be heard, she kicked absently at the ground, and buried her face in the green smelling daisy-things, wondering if there would be brownies. The brownies tasted like shit, but hell, chocolate was chocolate. And someone would always sneak her a handful of hard candies, after the residents had learned how she loved them…

The door creaked open, and a cold, distant face peered out, regarding the girl on the step with a frown, as if she was really the last person she felt like dealing with today. Lydia suppressed her surge of nausea, smiled, and held up the bouquet. "Flowers." She informed the woman lightly, like her dour self wouldn't recognize the things. "Am I late? Did anyone miss me?"

An extended moment of silence followed this, before grudgingly, the door swung open the rest of the way… But rather than standing aside, and letting her pass, the nurse took a step in her direction, filling the doorway. "Ms. Deetz." She murmured, managing the same fake little smile that she used with many of the patients. "I'm afraid we have a problem."

Lydia just stared at her, stomach lurching at the idea that any of her older friends might have had something bad happen to them… Even for a girl who knew death as well as she did, she couldn't quite suppress that initial reaction of, '_Oh god, what's wrong_?'

"Problem?" She echoed weakly, trying to shake the sense of worry that gripped her heart. "Is someone hurt? Is everyone okay?"

Again that small, patronizing smile. "It's about your visits, actually. It seems some complaints have been made about your behavior during your little volunteer sessions… Worries about getting the seniors, overexcited. Breaking of rules. Improper displays." A small pause, then, with just a touch of vindication, "There really is quite a list."

This had to be some kind of put on… Right? "We were just having fun." Lydia frowned, trying to peer past the nurse, her grip now so tight on her surprise gift that some of the stems broke under her hand. "Why is that a bad thing? They're old, not dead!" And of course, some of the most fun people she knew were dead anyway…

"Too much fun can be a dangerous thing, once you reach a certain age." The woman informed her wisely, not giving an inch. "I'm afraid the complaints have been taken seriously." A small, brief pause, filled with false sympathy. "I'm afraid your little visits will no longer be allowed. Perhaps when you have relatives of your own to visit…"

"Like I'd ever put anyone I love in this hellhole." Lydia muttered, baring her teeth just a little, in a purely animalistic reaction, the flowers now hanging unnoticed by her side, as she added, in a slightly louder voice, "So what, do I at least get to say goodbye?"

The woman smiled, clearly the sort of woman who had no place in this line of work, and had never liked the goth girl from the beginning. And that smile made Lydia want to tear it off her smug little face. "I'll relay your regrets myself." She offered with sickening sweetness, before stepping back, and moving to close the door in her face-

And failing, largely because a tall woman with a blue bouffant was holding the doorway open with one hand, urging Lydia to come in with the other. "Kiddo! We were just talking about you! You know it's not a good game, 'til you get here…"

Lydia smiled, bitterly, wryly. "She won't even let me say goodbye." She rasped, angry, and not above getting this last little bit of revenge. "What the fuck, right?"

The look in the older woman's eyes changed slowly to steel, and an unpleasant smile crossed her lips. "Is that so?" She purred, curling her fingers around the edge of the doorframe, and leaning through, _through_, the woman currently stopping Lydia from entering, as she murmured in a low, conspiratorial tone, "We'll just see about that, won't we, dear?"

And drawing back, she gave a low, decidedly nasty laugh, and vanished from sight, every bit the sight of a vengeful spirit. Her last words, lingering softly on the air, "You just come back here again next week, my dear. We'll see if I can't change this little prude's mind by then!"

Lydia smiled, genuinely, and gave the unpleasant nurse a look of sheer ice… The combination was almost certainly, downright unsettling. "Enjoy my absence." She murmured, feeling decidedly evil at the moment, and more than willing to let this trifling annoyance bear the brunt of everything that had been going wrong lately. "A few letters, a few complaints, I'll be back. That being said…" She shoved the oversized bouquet into the woman's chest, hard, finishing softly with, "I doubt you'll have to worry about me again."

With that, she left her there, feeling a bristling of anger and revulsion down her spine, out of place smile still very much _in _place, until the building behind her was long out of sight… Only then did her angry pace slow, and her expression dissolve into one of disgust. Damn it, nothing could just stay the way it was supposed to, could it?

Well fuck, clearly her life didn't know who it was dealing with. _Letters_. That was a start. To family members of the residents, who'd all seemed to like her. Complaints, to the administrators of the building. City hall, for fuck's sake. There had to be a rule. A _loophole_. Beetlejuice had taught her that. She was tired of life running rampant over her spirit… This? This was going to be _easy_. And she had little doubt that by the time she came back, any trouble-making leeches like that little annoyance back there, would be long since history. They should have arranged _that_ a long time ago.

In fact, maybe she could talk to Beetlejuice…

She stopped, abruptly, in front of a store display window, and frowned at the reflection she saw there. She looked about ready to kill someone… _Better be careful with that, neitherworld changing me the way it is. This look could stick_. The thought, bizarrely, made her feel better.

So what to do now? She had a whole Sunday to herself, no plans, nobody waiting for her, nothing that needed to get done. She could almost convince herself it was just a day off, if she really believed she'd be back with her friends within another week.

And of course, the best person to spend time with, whenever she had a day off, was the ghost with the most… It was just a matter of finding him. Oh yeah, and she still had a little reaming him out to do, didn't she? Her heart wasn't really in it anymore, but she should probably give him at least a mild verbal lashing, just to feel like she'd gotten _some _vindication…

"Now where the hell are you, Beej?" She muttered under her breath, her hand unconsciously going to her chest… Not to his ring, but where the little spark of his energy still twisted, inside her. She should be able to use that to find him, she'd done it before. Closing her eyes, she tried to let her current surroundings slip away, sucking in a deep breath through her teeth, and listened… She didn't know what else to call it, just listening. For the echo of the energy that still tingled at her chest.

There it was. Slowly, Lydia opened her eyes again, fixing them in the direction the little pull came from, and frowned. A _very_ little pull. Beetlejuice wasn't in Winter River… Which meant, since he could be anywhere from New York to Paris, that she couldn't track him down. And it was really starting to piss her off, not being able to call on him, pretty much ever.

"The guy definitely needs a cell phone." She muttered under her breath, starting to turn to go on her way again… And pausing, as something caught her sight in the window again. Or rather, not in its reflection, but beyond it.

Lydia stopped in her tracks, forgetting the poltergeist abruptly as she leaned forward, and pressed her fingertips against the glass, using her own shadow to try to get a better look inside. Cuff-links… Little nothing-fancy, oblong shaped, uninspiring cufflinks. Not worth shit. But it did remind her… She'd promised Vincent a birthday present. Owed him a few, really. But what the hell was she supposed to get a _prince_ for his birthday?

"I've never been able to get him anything nice…" She grumbled under her breath, turning away from the display window, and winding her way absently down the sidewalk, now checking every window.

A scarf she'd knitted herself, that year she'd tried knitting her presents… His being the only thing she'd actually finished. Which turned out like shit. And she'd given it to him anyway, because she knew he'd love it, just because it was from her… Drawings. Photographs. Never anything decent… And not for the first time, this ate at her.

What _did_ you get a dead guy, who already had all the coolest stuff in the neitherworld at his beck and call? The neitherworld having much better junk than anything she'd found yet in the living world… Though, maybe that was just because the novelty hadn't worn off yet.

Slowly, she turned this thought over in her head, pursing her lips in a thoughtful little moue. Novelty, huh? So, maybe she'd give him something so utterly living world, that he'd never seen anything like it. Would that do it?

Great. Now how the hell did she do that? She had no idea what he liked… Well, other than _her. _Her mind turned back to his empty bedroom, so bereft of anything fancy, so devoid of any sign that someone even called it home. Perfectly clean. No clue the sort of things he enjoyed. _Her _bedroom on the other hand, was cluttered day in and day out, with half mended clothes, piles of drawings, favorite books, old toys she'd kept around for the hell of it…

Old toys. She stopped in front of the current store, looking at a row of crummily put together dolls, cheap plastic this and that's, and piles of dusty board games. She wondered briefly if Vincent had any old toys… He'd been a kid for a really long time, but hadn't ever really struck her as the kind of guy who played with them.

Everyone needed a few toys in their lives… Or afterlives…

Pushing the door open, she was hit by a blast of warm, fragrant air, smelling of incense and potpourri, and oddly, eggnog. Beyond the first little knick knacks in the window, the store offered what looked like a vast collection of antique dolls, elaborate puzzles made of metal rings, and miniatures carved painstakingly from tiny bits of wood, spread out more or less everywhere.

Lydia walked past the row of stuffed unicorns without pause, lingered briefly at pewter statues of gryffions, and regarded with some small interest, old action figures she swore she remembered from when she was just a little girl. It was an odd collection, to be sure… She wondered how many times she'd passed this place, never thinking to go in, because it was too _normal_.

Gingerly she lifted a tiny plastic prince charming, no longer than her finger, and grinned, a little foolishly. Looking around, and finding a similarly small girl, in simple clothes, and setting them together. It was probably the silliest thing she'd done in years… But it cheered her up, immensely. Something here would be right for him. She was sure of it. And lord knew she'd enjoy looking… She hadn't been in a proper toy-store in years.

"Can I help you?"

Lydia didn't even look up at the woman speaking, just shaking her head with a soft sound of negation, and walking down the long aisle, her fingertips dragging over the time-worn corner of the shelf. Whoever it was that had spoken, seemed content to leave her alone after this, which was fine with Lydia. She'd never been one to be pressured into buying anything… She'd rather take her time, see everything…

Nearly an hour later left her having the explored most of the store, and put her right back in front of the shelves of ring puzzles and wooden squares with odd shaped pegs, begging to be taken apart, and placed together again… If possible. She'd come back to this shelf again and again, drawn by the oddly colored hidden pictures, the tumbling blocks held by twine, the silly plastic puzzles… It was one of these that she lingered by longest in fact, with its brightly colored sides, segmented sections, and boldly printed challenge on lined paper beneath it, to try solving the thing.

Lydia smirked, not sure which would be more fun, giving the guy an everyday present he'd never seen before, or watching him trying to solve it. _I'm supposed to be getting him something he'll enjoy, not me_, she mused to herself, finally picking the light cube up, and inspecting it with as detached an eye as she could give a toy, before her features split in a grin. Damn it, now she really wanted to see if he could solve the thing… She was sure it would drive him crazy if he couldn't.

Giving it a few, exploratory spins, Lydia was finally satisfied that the toy was as tricky as she remembered, and set it back down, grabbing one still in its package, and heading for the front of the store. She was lucky she still had some money left over after those flowers she'd wasted… But Vincent would be fascinated by the little puzzle, she was certain of it.

And since she couldn't wait to see the look on his face, she supposed she'd just go home now, and see what the ghost prince was up to… Maybe she could have some fun on this day off after all.

No thanks to _some _dead guys, who apparently had better things to do…

----------------

Nothing in his afterlife ever went as planned… Never for more than a few hours at a time, anyway. Caught up in a miserable, fermenting bog of politics, age old prejudices, and meaningless traditions, it was amazing he ever managed to find any time for himself… Much less the woman he loved.

And Lydia of course, she could never have any idea the lengths he went to, to prepare for a question she was long from ready to hear…

_She can't even say she loves me… Did I ever fool myself into believing it would be so simple? That such a creature with such will and spirit would simply fall for a destiny-binded fool such as me?_ He scowled, running his fingers across his lips, and cast a scathing glare at 'his' new advisor… Willing to spare no more patience on his father's miserable hand-me-down than necessary.

"Suggestion, then." He muttered aloud, dismissing the chamberlain's concerns with a twitch of his fingers… More than enough to make the other man look nervous, less and less certain about his new master's willingness to call on long unused powers every day. Only the disinherited fool spun spells now more often than the heir-prince… "Suggestion that, if I am not willing to forcibly silence the tongue of the press, as it is given freedom… There are many other ways I can make those who trouble my princess, _very_ sorry they did not catch me in good mood."

Princess, he called her already. As if she already wore his ring, and sat by his side. Let them get used to the idea now… Crossing her, meant crossing _him_. His parents, his councilors, his subjects… Down to the last damned stable boy, let them get the point _now_.

"Understood." The chamberlain murmured, eyeing the contender to the throne nervously. The prince was given ever more and more to shows of temper… All very _carefully_. And increasingly, gaining the support of members of his family who had rested, 'in the wings,' so to speak, for generations. All but forgotten, save for a meaningless title, and a few drops of blood. "I can almost guarantee, there will not be another display, such as upset the lady in her previous visit."

_Almost_ guarantee. Vincent frowned, ignoring this, for now. It was the best that could be asked for… In fact, literally. There would be a challenge, of course. There had to be. It couldn't be left as an idle threat, his willingness to back his words with action must be made clear…

He touched his temple, fleetingly, weary of catering to men such as the one before him, so set on image and tradition. Things were _changing_. The neitherworld seemed determined to resist it. And fools such as the chamberlain only made this more apparent day by day, even if the man refused to challenge him directly anymore himself.

Yet the fact that he still stood there, rather than carrying out Prince Vince's orders _immediately_, indicated that something else still troubled the man. "And what is it now?" Vincent asked flatly, already unimpressed by whatever triviality delayed his new servant in obeying his orders. "Was there something I needed to clarify?"

The man hedged, just a little, suddenly unwilling to voice his concern. "Well, highness, you see… There is the concern of your lady's company… _Beetlejuice_." A trace of loathing to the name. "That an interest of the crown should fraternize with one of his loathed standing… It doesn't reflect well on _you_, you see." The prince's frown deepened, just marginally. "Might not his highness suggest a bit more, discretion, on his lady's part?"

Beetlejuice. Again. The prince knew damn well that Lydia would never surrender her hold on the other poltergeist, not without more reason than he could give… And in all honesty, he had no grudge against the man. After all, he'd done what Vincent himself had wanted to do for centuries… Flew in the face of the whole damned royal monarchy, and left this unwelcome burden behind him for good.

Albeit at a price… One Vince would pay himself in a second, if he had the choice.

_Oh. He's still waiting for an answer. _Prince Vince offered a flat, unimpressed glance towards the man. "My Lydia's choice of companion is her concern, and her concern alone. Keep in mind now… She is the only one in this neitherworld that I do not intend having to answer to me. As for, _Beetlejuice_…" A pause, as he admitted, privately of course, that his advisor was right in his estimation, regardless of whether or not he could do anything about it… Regardless of whether or not he even wanted to…

"The poltergeist is responsible for himself." He finished, simply. "As he has always been. He has caused the neitherworld difficulty for longer than I have been dead, and I do not expect this to change. _However_, I will not have my Lydia laid with the burden now, simply because she keeps his company." Another pause, deliberate. "The two _are _separate entities, you see. I want that understood… And it is for _Lydia_, that my hand is swayed. Not _Beetlejuice_."

A moment's silence seemed to allow this to sink in, even to the stubborn advisor's mind. "Then… You do not extend the crown's protection to your cousin?"

He could of course, object to Beetlejuice being called this… Most in his family did, but he saw no reason to argue the point. There were more important matters at hand. "I assure you, that is one creature who neither needs, nor desires the protection of this family." He noted, just a trace of humor to his tone, which only served to unsettle the ghost he was speaking to more. "Furthermore…"

"Vincent?" The living girl's voice cut through Prince Vince's bad mood like an unexpected spear of light, and instantly the man abandoned his current line of thought, his expression changing dramatically as he turned to see where her voice was coming from… For one instant, letting his guard down, and looking utterly human.

Just as quickly, realizing he'd lowered his guard, he spun back with renewed fury on the chamberlain, who had not taken the hint to go. "Leave us!" He growled, looking truly animalistic in those moments. "At once!" The poor man almost fell over his feet in an attempt to retreat…

But he did leave them alone. Vincent turned back to the silver plaque on the wall, tinted ever so vaguely with the reflection of the woman he loved. "If this is a bad time…" He heard her mutter, sounding slighted… She'd thought he was talking to her! How could she believe he'd speak to her that way?

"Not at all." With a wave of his hand, the plaque was elsewhere, replaced by a polished mirror that captured the prince's image briefly, from the waist up, before it gave way again to the living girl's image once more. His heart was in his throat, suddenly a very different man than he'd been only moments before, as he attempted an apologetic smile. "I was dismissing someone else, my Lydia… Know that I would never use such a tone with you."

Lydia considered her, a small frown still turning down the edges of her soft mouth… Before it gave way to an excited little grin, like she was just so happy to see him. "Hold on…" She murmured, vanishing for an instant, before reappearing again, the chair he'd given her years before, firmly in grasp. "Okay." She turned it, and sat down, propping her elbows on the dresser, and her chin on her wrists, making soft black locks tumble down her arms, her eyes dancing as she watched him. "Guess what?"

Guess? "You're pleased to see me?" He prompted, a subtle tease to the words, as he carefully projected his power outward, making certain the two of them wouldn't be disturbed. "Certainly I am pleased to see you, my Lydia… I didn't expect such pleasant respite again so soon."

The slight girl smirked, tilting her head in such a way that inky black locks fell across one eye, before with a careless swipe, she brushed it back away, making his stomach do wonderful little flips. "That too." She agreed, not sounding unpleased. "But I meant something else… Since I know when your birthday is now, I got you a present. Even if it is late."

Vincent's gaze softened, and he touched the cool mirror lightly with his fingertips… A frail barrier that could not keep him from her, if he didn't allow it, but now, a smooth cool surface between them, not quite letting them touch. "That was not necessary, my Lydia… Your favor is a far greater gift than any you could obtain for me."

"Don't ruin the moment." She chided, the pleased little glint to her eyes showing her tease. "I never get to get you anything nice, and I took over an hour to pick this out for you." Her hand drew from her chin, and vanished beneath the mirror's sight for an instant, followed by, when this initial search failed, his love's head, as she searched for something beneath her dresser. "Damn it, I dropped it right here…"

A brief pause, where she vanished from sight completely, only to reappear a moment later, triumphant, a multicolored box clasped firmly in her hand, her pale lips stretched in a grin. "It's a puzzle!" She informed him, looking pleased with herself. "I wasn't sure if you had anything like it in the neitherworld, so…" She hesitated, suddenly looking briefly nervous, in that shy way she only occasionally showed, before reaching her hand through the mirror, with as little effort as thought, and offering the small cube to him. "Go on. Take it."

Prince Vince took the oddly bright present, letting the fingers of his opposite hand linger briefly on her wrist, as he gave her a small, genuinely pleased smile. It didn't really matter what it was, just that she had gone to such effort to find something she thought he'd like…

Grinning, she drew her hand back away, and crossed her arms across the dresser, watching him with a hopeful, expectant look. Dutifully, Vincent turned his attention to the garish little thing… Only to be absolutely dumbfounded by what it was. For a box, it didn't seem likely to open… Maybe that was the puzzle? "I admit," He said slowly, lifting his eyes to her again in amusement, "I have no idea what to do now."

Lydia sat back slowly, still smiling, and her eyes lidded a little, giving her a mysterious air. "Twist it." Was all she offered, as if that was in fact, the puzzle's only true purpose. Curious, the prince did as she asked, spinning the segmented sides until two colors faced off opposingly, no longer matching. "More…" She murmured, a bit impatiently this time. "This is the most fun I've had all day Vincent, I want to see if you can do it!"

Obligingly, the prince set to twisting the 'puzzle' in as many directions as possible, until each face of the box sported a complete disarray of colors… Seeming to offer no purpose at all. "There," He offered, satisfied, as he lifted the device for her to observe, and give her approval of. He really wasn't sure what this was, or why it seemed to fascinate her so… There was so _much _of the living world he didn't understand, even now…

"Okay." Lydia's smirk returned, and her fingers curled, just a little, before she settled her chin on her arms, eyes dancing as she watched him. "Now put it back."

For a moment, Vincent just stared at her, uncomprehending… Then slowly, turned his gaze to the jumbled mess of colors in his outstretched hand, and wondered briefly how in the neitherworld she expected him to do that. "Wouldn't it have been simpler to not mix the colors in the first place?" He frowned, trying to find a pattern, any sort of pattern, with his eyes… And failing.

"But then there wouldn't be any challenge." Lydia pointed out, looking oddly satisfied. "I could never solve one of those damn things, but there's supposed to be a way you can do it. I figured you might want to see if you could."

Obviously it was capable of being solved… It had _been_ solved, only moments before… Despite himself, his curiosity was intrigued. It was a challenge, then. Some puzzle that even those who'd created it had difficulty solving? Interesting. Maybe he could…

A soft laugh escaped his lips, making Lydia blink, then grin, looking absolutely delighted with herself. It made him reflect, briefly, on how seldom he laughed… She seemed to enjoy the sound, however unnatural it felt for him. He should try to laugh more often. "I like it." He said simply, surprised himself by the fact that it was true… And not simply because it was a gift from her. "Thank you, Lydia. I shall see how well I can turn my hand at solving it."

When he had some time he wasn't already devoting to securing his kingdom, that was. Or more importantly, his princess…

Lydia straightened slowly, and sighed, suddenly looking tired. He knew she'd had a long few days, even knew that there were more than likely a few problems that she hadn't even shared, and wondered briefly if that really would be the highlight of her day. Giving him a little colored box. "I confess to being a bit surprised," He prompted, after a moment's thought, "After our time together yesterday, I was almost certain that Beetlejuice would claim any you had free today."

Looking briefly surprised, Lydia's expression fell into one of patient humor, and she shook her head, smiling. "There's no telling what that ghost's up to." She denied, matter-of-factly. "The last time I saw him, he seemed like he was in a hurry to be somewhere else…" With a wry twist of his lips, she added, "The position of best friend, and/or gatekeeper, doesn't seem to include the privilege of actually knowing the hell's going through the guy's thick head, you know?"

Not really surprising, from what Prince Vince knew of the other poltergeist… Before he could say as much though, Lydia reached through the mirror again, surprising him into momentary silence, and took firm grasp of his hand, suddenly looking like she needed him to say, something. He didn't know what. "Do you think it gets easier when we get older?" She asked softly, managing a small smile. "That when all this teen angst bullshit gets over, maybe things will make more sense?"

"I hope so." Vincent answered honestly, after a moment's pause. "But I may not be the one to ask. My years as a teenager have been… excruciatingly long." When she giggled, he took the corner of her cheek gently into his hand, and leaned through the mirror, lightly kissing her between the eyes. "I will certainly try to make it easier for you, if I am able…"

He was about to say more, when a blur of movement off to one side caught his eye, and he turned, in surprise more than anything, to see what it was… And paused, uncertain exactly what he was looking at. "What is that?" He asked softly, unable to prevent just a tiny thrill of dread from creeping up into his chest. The black and white creature, which had come to an abrupt stop at earning his attention, now watched him with angry, wild green eyes. Vincent's grip tightened on her hand. "Lydia," He asked again, just a little more urgently, "What _is _that creature?"

Lydia followed his line of sight, frowned, and turned back to him, looking at the prince like she was worried he might be losing his mind. "That's just Loki." She said slowly, clearly not sure why he was staring at the thing like some creature of hell. "He's my cat." A small pause. "You knew I had a cat, right?" Another pause. "You know, like the things at the retirement home? I know there aren't many in the neitherworld…"

A cat. He tried to listen to her words after this, but it all kept coming back to those two words. A _cat_. The problem was, Prince Vince had seen a fair number of cats in his years, living and otherwise. He'd been around for some number of years after all, even if they _weren't_ common beasts in the neitherworld. Cats were in fact, very nearly the only creatures that could come and go from that world of the dead as they pleased, once they reached a certain point in their lives…

So he'd seen a few. Both living, and dead. The problem was that the creature he was looking at right now, fur raised angrily along its back, bottle brush tail swishing furiously as it realized it was caught, was neither. Baring its fangs, the 'cat' snarled under its breath, a sound that had no place in a common house-pet, and left Lydia looking after him in startlement as he stalked away, clearly not certain she'd heard right. All she said though, was "Huh." Like it just didn't seem that strange to her at all.

Vincent looked after the place the animal had vanished, worried as he considered what such a creature's presence in his Lydia's life might mean. "A cat," He said softly, just as if he were not questioning it, "I have never seen one with such, unusual markings." He turned back to her, his eyes searching hers, for some sign that she knew her pet was more than he appeared… Nothing. She was still puzzling over his sudden outburst. "Loki, you said his name was?"

"Yeah…" She was frowning as she turned back to him, like she knew herself something odd had just happened, she just wasn't certain what. Unfortunately, neither did he… "I like trouble-makers. You know, like the trickster."

He in fact, did not know, nor really care. "Perhaps you should rest for a while." He murmured, turning over this recent turn of events in his mind. "I suspect simply from the time I've spent in your company of late, that you've not been getting enough sleep."

"Yeah…" Lydia gave a little half smile, seeming to decide it was best to forget the whole thing, and leaned through the glass, until she seemed in danger of falling through. He steadied her, gently, and she dropped a light kiss on his cheek, feather soft, and warm. "I'll see you soon, okay? Everything's so crazy lately… I need something in my life that makes sense."

"I will always try to… make your life make sense." He assured her slowly, not certain he was saying this right. What he meant to say was that he would be her shelter, her protected cove, her place to hide, and her sense of safety… But none of that had managed to come out right. _Oh well._

Once she was gone, a grim expression settled across the prince's features, and he reached out, grasping the edge of the mirror firmly, and pulled it away from the wall… Revealing a tunnel behind it, that had not existed, only a few moments before. Green vapor spilled out of the narrow entranceway, along with the smell of the newly dead, and the stagnation of time being distorted beyond the confines of its walls…

Without hesitation, he plunged into the swirling fog, yanking the mirror shut behind him. A moment later, it shrank, and disappeared, leaving nothing but the silver plaque that had been there in the beginning… And leaving him no obvious way back out.

For once, Vincent did not knock on the door at the far end of his roughly hewn tunnel, throwing it open with a force that swept into the room like a wind with a mind of its own, twisting at papers and bending wood, leaving the entire office a slightly bent version of its former self.

Juno looked up at him, an angry snap on her tongue… Only to die unuttered, as she saw the dangerous set to the crown prince's mouth. "Get out." He uttered quietly to the man currently demanding the case worker's attention. "We have business to discuss."

"Hold on now…" The man managed to mutter, oddly without benefit of a bottom jaw, "I took my number and waited with the rest of them! You can't come in here, and…!"

Vincent turned to the man, with eyes that he'd inherited through many generations of men who were not used to being disobeyed. "I can, and I have." He informed the other icily, little sparks of energy flaring to life, and snapping with a sharp, brief crackling around him. "And unless you wish me to relocate your mandatory haunting years to the receiving bin of a sewage plant, for an additional seven hundred years, _with what remains of your broken corpse hanging around your neck by your __tongue__, YOU WILL LEAVE NOW!_"

To his credit, Juno's client never stopped to question whether or not the prince could actually do that, he in fact could, choosing instead to leave the case worker's office as fastly as inhumanly possible, and almost leaving his foot behind in the process.

Only when the door was closed between them, and the rest of the world beyond it, did Prince Vince turn back to the elderly ghost woman, currently watching him through wary eyes. He had no doubt that she knew fully well how dangerous he was at the moment… If she hadn't known first hand just how powerful the royal family was before he entered his little growth spurt, she was intimately aware of the position he himself possessed now.

"What is that _creature _in my Lydia's possession?" He demanded, closing his fingers on the edge of her desk, and looming the much smaller woman into his shadow… Not that it was hard, considering that she was still sitting down.

Juno considered him, for upwards of a minute, before grinding out her cigarette grudgingly, well aware he didn't like them. "It's called a cat." She informed him, matter-of-factly. "They're all over the living world. You should look into it sometime."

Prickling anger rose up his spine, but before he could summon words worthy of such a summery dismissal, she looked back up at him, and continued, asking, "I assume that what you're referring to however, is the fact that the cat in question has currently exceeded its thirteenth life." A twist of her hand. "Surpassed the boundaries of life and death. All that. For all effects and purposes, 'moved on.'"

"Yes." Vincent agreed, slowly, already doing his best to gather his temper back beneath him… Too much anger was a weakness, as dangerous as any other. He had to be in control. The very fact that Juno was in control of her emotions, and he wasn't, was enough to warn him that he needed to calm down. "I assume it was assigned to her by, certain, powers-that-be."

"Who else could send one of those types back down to the mortal realm, much less to put up with a breather like that one?" A pause, then, "Mind you, those are usually the types his kind prefer…"

"Because of my involvement with her, then?" He demanded, not really calmer now, but far, far quieter. "Because these precious powers-that-be disapprove of my interaction with the woman I love, merely because she's living?"

For one moment, he swore Juno looked amused, even if she banished the betraying expression so quickly, he couldn't be sure. "Got your sight set on the throne of the neitherworld," She noted, far more collectedly than the situation called for, like she'd been expecting this conversation for some time now, "And a living girl too, breaking every tradition in your family. Flying against the face of everything you've been raised to know… You really _must _think this is about you, don't you?"

Her words left him, briefly, without anything sensible to offer. Of course it was about him. If not him, then who? Beetlejuice? Certainly it couldn't be… "This is about, Lydia herself, then?" He asked quietly, suddenly finding the need to sit down. "Because, she is a living witch…?"

Juno dismissed this with an absent little twist of her hand. "Rare," She acknowledged, like this was nothing at all, "But nothing worth that kind of effort. No, this has nothing to do with the Deetz girl… Or rather, it does, indirectly." A pause, as Juno seemed to reconsider what she was offering him, studying the prince with a long, careful gaze, before she admitted, grudgingly, "This is about the girl's daughter."

"Lydia's, daughter." Vincent echoed, certain there must be some mistake. "I believe I would have noticed, had she had a daughter."

"Well, not yet, of course!" Juno growled, looking impatient. "Look, if I'm going to explain this to you, you can at least try to keep up!" She snapped her fingers, and abruptly, a sizeable folder dropped onto the desk in front of her… Oddly enough, chained shut, and held by an elaborate clasp. "Do you know what this is?" She demanded, shortly. He could only shake his head. "Neither the hell do I!" Another snap of her fingers, and the folder was gone.

Slowly, the case worker leaned forward, folding her hands across the desk, and looking as serious as the young man had ever seen her. "You see kiddo, there are possible futures, and there are definite futures. Sort of like we don't know the road we'll be taking, but we know where we'll end up when we get there. That was a whole helping of possibles. Are you following?" This time, Vince nodded. "Good. See, you and the girl, that's a possible future…"

"Now let me tell you a definite future." Another wave of her hand, and a much smaller folder appeared before her, this one lacking any type of closure. "Lydia Deetz will one day be a mother. She'll have a large family." A lift of an eyebrow. "She ever tell you she wanted a large family?" Again, Vincent shook his head, starting to feel like his answers weren't really necessary at all in her little explanation. "Well she does. And she'll have one. The cat… Is interested in one in particular."

The folder closed, and as if this was all there was to her explanation, Juno leaned back in her chair, smiled like she really didn't give a damn what he thought of what she was about to say, and noted, almost vindictively, "One of that little breather's daughters is going to grow up to be queen of the neitherworld. And she's going to have a hell of a lot more power than even you could ever dream."

Silence followed this… Vincent wasn't sure what to think. Lydia's daughter would grow up to be queen of the neitherworld? That would make her, his daughter too, right? Then, this was good news… Lydia would be his _wife_. However these powers knew what they knew…

"No." Juno interrupted, ripping him from the pleasant train of thought his mind had been following. He looked back at her, baffled. "See now, I could tell what you were thinking just then. That the kid growing up to be queen means that it must be yours… But see, that's not how it works. The kid's gonna rule the neitherworld, with or without your little addition to her bloodline."

"That's what I meant by possible futures, and definite futures. Your chance with Lydia is just possible. Her kid getting the throne? That's gonna happen no matter what we do." A vague gesture with her hand. "You, me, anyone. You can see why the higher-ups want to send in someone to make sure everything happens as smoothly as possible. There's just too many possibilities up in the air right now."

"Who, precisely, are these higher ups?" Vincent asked flatly, after an extended moment proved that Juno wasn't going to say anything more.

"Hell if I know, kid." Juno admitted, not making any attempt to pretend she did. "The neitherworld? It's just one of a whole lot of places the dead can end up. You don't figure there's a few people working behind the scenes, to make sure everything runs the way it's supposed to? _I_ don't ask questions. Even if they got answered, all it would mean is more paperwork for me. God knows I have enough of that… I just deal with my little end of it, same as any of us."

"And how is Lydia's daughter to claim the crown, if she isn't mine?" He demanded, starting to feel some of his anger returning, and rising from his seat again, in a need to vent it. "What you're claiming makes no sense…!"

"Doesn't it?" Juno met his eyes flatly, emotionlessly. "Look, I don't know. Maybe Lydia hooks up with one of your descendants. Maybe her _kid _hooks up with one of your descendants. Maybe her kid hooks up with _you_. Hell, what's one more generation?" Now, oddly, anger seemed to finally build up in her own voice. "Maybe the girl incites a rebellion, and overthrows the whole damn royal family! I told you, I don't ask! I deal with right now, and I'll deal with the future when it happens, not before!"

The prince stared, silently. It took longer than it should have, for the woman's words to sink in… and when they did, he really only focused on one part of what she'd been saying. "So then, you've no way to be certain what role I am to play in this child's life." He repeated at last, a little tightly. "Am I not to be concerned with the fact that this future queen of the neitherworld you speak of, is equally likely to be my daughter, or my _wife_?

Juno gave a grim little smile, amused, and seemingly unimpressed with the prince's own personal problems with the situation. "Personally, I'm more concerned with how the hell little choice we have in the matter. Doesn't matter who the father is, doesn't matter which world the kid's raised in, doesn't matter what you or I do to get in the way, the girl is gonna be queen." She opened her top drawer, and started fishing around in it for something, muttering under her breath, _So much for that fucking free will they're always going on about…_

"Daughter, or _wife_!" Vincent repeated, just a little more loudly, grabbing hold of the desk in front of her, like he might shake it to get her attention.

"Only two of the possibilities I've stated thus far." Juno pointed out, still searching, and finally coming up with a stick of gum. "I'm sure there's several others that neither one of us has thought of yet. I'm actually more curious as to why it has to be this particular breather's daughter. Lydia Deetz. Doesn't matter if her father's a breather too, she's still gonna inherit your crown. Can't be changed." She unwrapped it, gave it a dirty look, and popped the pale blue-green thing in her mouth… grimacing.

"But there's no point asking questions, because neither one of us are going to get any answers." She went on a moment later, not waiting for him to collect his thoughts again. "So, do you have any questions that I maybe _can _answer? No? I didn't think so." She waved at him dismissively, giving the impression that this was a long old annoyance to her, and she didn't get why he was getting so upset about it now. "Now if you'll excuse me, I _do _have other clients waiting… Which technically, you're not one of to begin with. Kindly get out."

He didn't get out. He just continued to stand there, now looking down at the warped wood, and for the first time in a long time, feeling utterly, completely helpless. He'd done all he could now, for years, to prove to himself that he had some measure of control over his life… Only to be informed, in the most dismissive way possible, that his life was more or less a bookmark, in a story that might not even include him at all.

When he didn't immediately leave, Juno's expression, first a frown, grew a little uneasy, clearly not liking the younger man's shifted mood. "Look," She offered at last, clearly just hoping he'd pull himself up and get back to afterlife as usual, but not above offering a little final advice, "For what it's worth, it seems like the Deetz girl is pretty taken with you. I figure the two of you will be very happy together, and the kid will be yours, problem solved. The only thing I see getting in the way at this point…"

She broke off, a little sharply, like maybe she shouldn't have said anything at al, and gave him a pointed look. "Well, do I have to spell it out for you?

No. No, she didn't. He shook his head slowly, back to answering without a word. _Beetlejuice_. The one person who could compete for his love's affection. Never mind that she'd never shown any such interest in him before… Or for that matter, that he'd never shown any such interest in her. Because suddenly, nothing felt certain.

"Good." She mumbled, already spitting out her gum, and reaching for another cigarette. "Always knew you were a smart kid. A little slow, but you get there in the end." Pointing at him with the slender stick of white, she cautioned, pointedly, "Just don't push your luck with the girl, you'll be fine. Get your very own happily ever after."

A pause, then, in a no-nonsense tone, just as if she hadn't just made him question everything he believed about his life, and his future, she muttered flatly, "Now get the hell out of my office."

Don't push her. Don't push her, and maybe he could hold onto her… Except that he was running out of time. In one week, she'd be sixteen. In another year, seventeen. After that, she would be beyond his reach. And he was a man who knew very well how quickly time could sneak up on a person. One year to win her heart, to make her his princess… And _he _had to be careful not to _push _her too quickly.

_Powers that be…_ He muttered to himself, his eyes slowly growing hard. _Gods or devils, I don't care either way. I will __not__ lose her._ He didn't understand the rest, it was true, but maybe Juno had the right idea. Take it all as it came. See what the future led to. And make certain it led to the future he intended… _Whatever_ the cost to him.

As long as it didn't cost him the woman he loved, he didn't care.

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	11. Nothing Changes?

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Erm... I'll get to answering last chapter's reviews tomorrow. Promise. K. J. Gough? Honestly didn't mean to knock you out of the top spot so fast. Forgive me? :puppy eyes: Er, maybe it's just me that gives a damn about that stuff...

I am so tired... I want to get this up tonight, and I'll get to everything else tomorrow... Including a new chapter that I am DEFINITELY looking forward to reading from another story... (Mostly Dead!)

:)

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There it was.

_Hell_. Beetlejuice scowled up at the two-story, picturesque building, the place that had cost him his chance at freedom so many years before… And the place he'd been hiding out in on a pretty regular basis, for the past few. He was beginning to think_, _for even more than he'd realized.

But there wasn't any point standing out here forever. Grumbling under his breath, the poltergeist approached the house, kicking up clods of dirt with his boots every few steps, and sneering at the damage he left to the Deetzs' pretty little lawn. It would be an odd sight, to anyone looking… But he was feeling reckless, and didn't really give a damn.

As he walked past the big oak in the back, he gave a short, guttural grunt of satisfaction to see the girl's broken bike still embedded deeply into the trunk. The tree itself wasn't looking so good these days… Having a twisted pile of metal ripped halfway through them would do that to just about anyone. He nudged a deflated tire with his toe, frowned, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Good times.

Damn it, Lyds was going to kill him. The only person in either world that could make him feel like an ass for being, well, an ass, and he'd just taken off, again, without a second word. He wasn't even sure how many days ago that was… Time kind of lost all meaning, if a guy could find a place that sold booze twenty-four hours a day… Not to mention when he was trying to put off going 'home' as long as possible. But now the girl was gonna kick his ass, probably literally, considering how much she liked kicking when she was pissed.

Then again, considering how hard the girl was to piss off, he usually deserved it. Not that he'd ever fucking tell her that.

"Honey, I'm home…" He muttered under his breath, unable to resist the sarcastic jibe towards what had suddenly become a very confusing relationship. This time though, he made no more detours, walking right up to the back door, and through it-

Almost to run face first into a very distracted-looking Barbara Maitland, going from room to room, desperately searching for… something. He snorted in distain… Broad couldn't even figure out her powers good enough to fucking _find_ something?

She stopped, not three feet from him, and he flipped her off, already turning towards the stairs, more or less ready to face the music. He was probably over-reacting anyway… Babes wasn't _Juno_, or some shit. "Honey!" He yelled louder, unwilling to let this particular jibe go unappreciated, "I'm HOME!" The Maitland chick never so much as glanced at him…

A moment later though, Lydia _did_ appear at the top of the stairs, looking surprised and terrified, eyes casting around the room frantically to find him… And settling quickly on the spot, almost meeting his own invisible gaze. Only then did she turn her attention to Babs, still totally oblivious to the poltergeist's presence. Relief washed across her face, then fury… Then amusement, as she seemed hard-pressed not to fall over giggling.

Beetlejuice smirked. Damn straight. Wasn't no one could make his babes laugh like him… _And no way the kid could ever stay pissed at yours truly!_ He'd been waiting for just the right occasion to try that little trick… Though she had to known damn well by now, that no one heard him unless he wanted to be heard. It wasn't like he'd ever bothered to keep quiet, or anything…

Peace made, sort of, he turned his attention back to the Maitland chick… Just a little too late, as she walked right through the spot where his incorporeal body was perched in midair.

The other ghost froze, her eyes going wide, and looked briefly sick.

"Bitch." Beetlejuice muttered under his breath, reflecting that _that_ could have been a hell of a lot more fun, if he'd been paying attention. "Like you've had better."

After that little close encounter though, he figured he should probably make himself scarce… The Maitlands were idiots, but well… Even an idiot sometimes got a clue. So he picked up his feet a little more, drifting along towards the staircase, where Lyds was now watching Adam and Babs talk in low tones, trying to figure out what the hell _that _was…

And snuck a hand around her waist once he'd reached the top, dragging the girl away from the railing, and hissing menacingly in her ear, "Miss me, babes?"

Lydia snickered, wrapping her arm briefly over his, before shoving him away playfully, a look of feigned annoyance set on her lips… Though she couldn't keep her eyes from glinting with pleasure to see him. Come to think of it, when had he _ever_ had that effect on a broad before?

_No, wait… Hell. Lyds._

"You've been busy." She muttered under her breath, somehow finding the poltergeist's unseen hand with little effort, and dragging him back towards her room. "You're just lucky that Adam and Barb are busy trying to find that letter that came for mom… Something about a photo collaboration." She rolled her eyes, adding, "You know anything she can do, I can do better, right?"

The answer was there, right on his lips, and he bit down on it, hard… Before he gave it up as a lost cause. Hell, was he gonna start cleaning up his act now? Lyds had to expect him to be a lecherous ass by this point… "_Anything_, babes?" He sneered, shoving his hands in his pockets, and rocking close enough to her to feel her warm breath fall on his face.

Lydia, unable to see his expression, just smirked, reached out a hand, and shoved him backwards, looking exasperated. "Horn-dog." She muttered good-naturedly, moving past him without another glance… And pausing as if she'd just thought of something else, looking slowly over her shoulder, with an expression he couldn't immediately read.

Kinda made him want to check behind him for sandworms though…

"You _knew_ what Vincent's big secret was!" She said suddenly, like this had just occurred to her, looking for half a second like she was torn over whether to deck him, or just fucking rip his head off, and hand it back to him. "I can't believe you knew, and didn't _tell_ me!"

Beetlejuice stood there, dumbfounded, wondering what the hell he _knew_, that had her right back ready to choke him… "Come again, babes?" He demanded, like he was the one about to get angry now. Sure, if he went and pulled some stupid shit, he expected the girl to be ticked at him… But what the hell? He hadn't done _shit_! What the fuck did he know about royals, and their secrets?

Just as he was about to really let loose with what he thought about her, and her damn women's intuition, it occurred to him suddenly that she wasn't following this accusation up with, well, anything. She just kind of stood there, watching him, arms crossed, eyes dancing as she waited for his reaction. What the hell? "What the _fuck_?" He roared, relieved and annoyed at the same time, as Lydia gave up the game, and staggered back, laughing giddily. "I mean seriously, what the _fuck_, babes?"

Between giggles, all Lydia could manage, still accusingly, was, "You _knew_, Beej! I don't care if you fucking _knew _you knew, you-!"

"Lydia?" Adam Maitland suddenly poked his head in through the _still open_ doorway, looked around for a minute like there might be someone else there, and gave her a little frown, on not finding anyone. "Who are you talking to?"

"Um." For a minute, Lydia just stared at her foster father, _through_ Beetlejuice, and was clearly, for once, at a complete loss for an answer. "Uh… Talking? I was… talking to Loki!"

Just the name of the nasty-mooded animal made Beetlejuice scowl, and cast his eyes around the room, finding the beast perched securely right where _he_ belonged… On the girl's dresser, watching the whole thing with an expression remarkably like contempt. Not that that wasn't a cat's usual expression anyway…

Adam too, seemed to have no problem finding the creature, and managed to completely miss the girl's blatant lie, too distracted to notice. "Oh." A small pause, and then he held up his hands, forming a rough rectangle with his outstretched fingers. "Have you seen an envelope? Yellow? About this big…"

"I know what an envelope looks like, Adam." Lydia assured him, cracking a small smile, clearly not willing to believe yet that he'd actually bought it.

He paused, then nodded, still looking like he wasn't quite paying attention. "Right. Course you do. Um…" He started to turn, stopped, and gave Lydia a slightly more interested look this time, like he'd suddenly realized who he was talking to. "Lydia, Barb is feeling a little weird… Do you… Would _you _know if ghosts can get sick?"

Beetlejuice cackled softly. He couldn't wait to hear the answer to this one… Never mind that a couple of _actual _ghosts, were asking a breather for advice, about what ghosts could and couldn't do. Lydia though, just frowned, and almost cast a look in his direction, before stopping herself in time. "If, they had a good enough reason to, I guess." She answered at last, slowly.

"A good enough reason?" Adam echoed, looking baffled. "What would- What would be a good enough reason? I mean," He gestured absently down the stairs behind him. "When the living get a feeling like that, they say it's because a ghost walked through them!" A small pause, as he considered the girl helplessly. "What would give a ghost that feeling?"

"Someone… walking across their grave?" Lydia ventured, clearly with no more clue than the Maitland chump what was going on.

Still though, it was clear he bought it after a moment of thought, a slow look of dawning realization on his features as he nodded, apparently convinced. "Someone walking- Barb, honey! It's okay, it's-" He stopped halfway out the door, and cast Lydia a grateful look. "Thanks, Lydia. You always know this stuff. Hey, Barb-?"

Beetlejuice helpfully slammed the door shut behind him, going visible, and draping along the post of Lydia's bed with a grin. "They fucking _bought_ it! Babes, that was priceless, you should win some kind of fucking _award_…!"

"What did you do to Barbara?" Lydia demanded, something in her tone indicating that she was no longer faking her annoyance.

The poltergeist's grin fell, and he stared at her… Confessing the truth, that he hadn't done a damn thing, that the broad had walked through _him_, never even occurred to the ghost. He was too used to being the one in the wrong. "Well hell, babes!" He exploded, grabbing his hair in a feign of getting ready to pull it out, and shooting her an exasperated look. "If you're gonna get pissed at me, will you at least focus on one goddamn thing at a _time_?"

Lydia blinked, clearly having forgotten what she was on about before. "Huh? Oh…" A small frown finally touched her lips. "Yeah, I'm still mad about that too." She lied. It was kind of funny, how good she was at lying to her folks, but how she couldn't lie to _him_ worth shit. "You… Ah, fuck it." The expression on her face said that this just wasn't fun anymore. "You knew how goddamn old Vincent was, and you never told me. That's all."

The poltergeist started to deny it, out of sheer force of habit more than anything… Before he paused, brow wrinkling. "Huh." He muttered after a moment, gazing off at a spot on the girl's bedspread, wondering if he should be annoyed that she was right. "Guess I did. So fucking what?"

Lydia leaned back against her dresser, shaking her head, a little smile on her lips. "So fucking nothing, I guess. Just would've been nice to know." She bent her head a little, hair falling carelessly in her face, and bit the back of her thumb. "Not to mention it's gonna be one more reason for my parents to freak out, if they ever _figure_ it out."

"Nah." Beetlejuice looked satisfied, deeply satisfied, as if somehow in the last few minutes, something had been settled between them. "You're too good a bull-shitter for those saps to ever catch on… Only one who can read you like a book Lyds, is me!" With this last, he hooked his thumb at his chest, giving a feral little grin.

Yeah, this was good. The fact was, he honestly felt better already. He'd been back all of five minutes now after all, and hadn't shit really changed between them. Maybe this'd work out after all… Wasn't like the kid was like other broads, anyway. _She_ wasn't about to up and ditch his ass out of the blue, just 'cause shit wasn't like it was _before_…

He rubbed his hands together, spat in his palms, and slicked his hair back, giving her his best 'out on the town' look, and offering her his arm. "So come on babes, we got a lot to catch up on! I wanna show you this place I found, got the best eats the neitherworld over… 'Cept of course, they're all under glass, and the fuckers got the nerve to call it a 'Museum…'" He rolled his eyes, to show what he thought of that. "But I swear babes, yer gonna see bugs the size of your goddamn _head_…"

Before she really had a chance to think it over, much less decide whether she'd get caught if she said yes, the doorbell rang, shocking the both of them into a moment of silence. The perfectly mundane sound was starkly out of place… What the hell, after all? Who the hell ever came there, that didn't already have a key? "I gotta see this…" Beetlejuice muttered, echoing the goth girl's unuttered sentiments, and drifting right through the wooden door, without bothering to wait.

Lydia followed him quickly, not sure at first that the ghost had the sense to hide himself, and quickly reassured when she almost ran into his invisible ass. "Outta the way!" She muttered, grabbing a handful of unseen cloth, and shoving him clear, so she could get a look down the stairs. The poltergeist just chuckled, as Lydia leaned over the railing, narrowing her eyes… And paused, with something of a look of surprise registering on her face.

Her old man had been the one to get the door- funny, when Beetlejuice hadn't even know the guy was home- but it was the person standing just outside it that caught his attention. He remembered the bitch, from the rare occasion he'd ventured down to the retirement home, hoping to drum up some business, or play a few hands of poker with Lyds… Just about the least likeable of a handful of shrews that called the place a living. She looked seriously pissed… And scared. And oddly enough, he hadn't had shit to do with either one.

"Lydia?" Her father was asking flatly, making no effort to make the woman feel welcome… Kinda made the poltergeist almost like the guy a little, how few pains he went through to make friends… "She's home. But you're a little old to be asking after my daughter. What do you want with her?"

The woman drew herself up to her fullest height, all of an impressive three inches above his babes, and declared, rather shakily, "I am from the retirement home that your daughter was volunteering at! I wish to speak to her!"

From the strength of her voice alone, or lack of it, it was clear she'd had a shitty day- Or a shitty few days- and Beetlejuice cast a glance at the younger girl, wondering what she had to do with this. Lyds, to his surprise, had a look of sheer angry delight on her features… She was practically fuckin' kneading the railing, and purring, like a cat watching a new toy.

"Huh." He muttered to himself softly, now _really_ intrigued, as he turned back to the scene unfolding below. "Been around Loki too much…" Though it was more likely _him _that was the bad influence… Since it usually was.

"Oh yes," The man below had been going on, while their own little drama went on upstairs, "I remember. She came back early Sunday, as I recall…" Something in Lydia's father had shifted as he spoke, ever subtly becoming more stony, as he considered the woman standing before him. "She said something about not being welcome anymore." A pause, and then, a little flatly, like he didn't believe it himself, "Change of heart?"

The woman shot him a scathing glance, visible even up where the two of them stood, unnoticed. "Your daughter is some kind of a _witch_!" She spat, making the poltergeist's eyebrows shoot straight up into his hairline, and wonder again what the fuck the girl had done now. "There's something going on there, something weird ever since she left! I know she did it!"

Other than the utter ridiculousness of anyone being accused of witchcraft in this day and age, not that he hadn't seen it a few times in the past, Beetlejuice reflected that even the bitch herself had to realize she sounded like a lunatic… Not that she couldn't be right, of course. "You raising hell without me?" He muttered, just a little amused, despite the disappointment of not getting to be in on the fun. "Hell Lyds, if you were gonna traumatize the bitch…"

Lydia shushed him, absently, still leaning too far forward in an effort to hear. Grudgingly, seeing he wasn't going to get a response until she played out her little game, he just wrapped his fist in the back of her shirt, to make certain she didn't splatter out her brains a story below.

Edmond meanwhile, had turned, and at the sight of his daughter, for all appearances balancing at an insane angle over the banister, took a moment to take it in, before asking the girl, in a voice far too calm for such a question, "Lydia? Did you put a curse on the retirement home?" It was even fucking funnier, since everyone there but the scrawny annoyance knew he was serious… She on the other hand, clearly thinking he was patronizing her, and turning red.

"No, daddy." Lydia murmured, the first time he'd heard her use that particular term of endearment… All the while curling her mouth in a spiteful little look of humor that totally turned anything she was offering at the moment to crap. Endearment included. "All I know is how to turn two-faced creeps into toads." A small pause, for effect, before with a loaded helping of stage innocence. "Why, are they having problems with two-faced creeps? I can fix _that_."

Her father's face firmed, just a little. "Lydia…" He pressed, clearly in less of a mood for games than his daughter.

Lydia frowned right back, her expression suddenly just as unyielding as his. "I wouldn't have put a curse on the place. I like the people who live there." He denied, flatly. Another little pause, also for emphasis, before adding, "_Her_, I'd put a curse on."

For the length of… too long, Edmond met his daughter's gaze, and Beetlejuice swore they were holding a private little discussion there, that the rest of them just weren't privy to. Then, without another word to his daughter, the man turned back to the door, and the woman standing there. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, then." He denied calmly. "Lydia says she didn't do it." Beetlejuice reflected on all the other little things his babes didn't 'technically' do, and cackled softly.

For an instant, it seemed like the woman below heard him, suddenly going from about to retaliate for the rude dismissal, to standing there looking like, well, she'd just seen a ghost. "There is something _wrong_ in that place." She reiterated at last, her tone just a little less bold than it had been only a moment before.

"Be that as it may… It's not my daughter, so it's not my problem." Edmond denied, as emotionlessly as he'd offered anything thus far. "But if you want my opinion, a nursing home like that's probably full of ghosts. People have to die there from time to time. And considering how my daughter gets _along _with ghosts, they're probably not happy you sent her away." A brief pause for thought, before, bluntly, "My advice is holy water, and apologies. Not in that order."

And with that, he closed the door in the baffled-looking woman's face. Lydia fell backwards, pretty much on her ass, looking more or less satisfied. "You're getting better at this, dad." She called down to him, just raising her voice enough for him to hear.

"It isn't like I have much choice," Edmond noted, for the first time sounding a bit annoyed, "But in the future, when you're going to sic the dead on someone, do you think I can get a little warning that people are going to be beating down our door?"

A pause of silence answered, before Lydia, in one smooth motion, pulled herself to her feet, stretched, and noted, rather abruptly, "I forgot, I still have homework to do. Tell you what… No more sic'cing the dead on people, until _after_ I get my homework done, okay?" It was just exactly the sort of smartass answer the girl would come up with… And from what he'd seen, it usually got her out of having to give a straight one.

No such luck this time. "Not so fast," Her father, denied, already on his way up the stairs, "I'm serious, Lydia. Ghosts, magic… I don't care what anyone says, this is just too much for someone your age." He came even with her, looking down to meet his shorter daughter's eyes, but as usual, she just met the man's gaze with what was almost his own trace of defiance. "Since I can't do anything about it though…" He said slowly, after a moment more, "Just promise you'll _think_, before you do anything."

Beetlejuice chuckled silently. Like thinking had ever stopped him from doing _shit_. No way it would stop his babes. She was, well… his _babes_.

"Right." Lydia agreed, slowly, just as he'd known she would. "Think before I act. Got it." And if she suddenly seemed a little more subdued, he put it off to a good face she was putting on for her old man. "Dad… It's not like I don't _think_…"

A frown touched her father's lips, as he brushed his fingers lightly over the top of her head, like she was still five. "I was afraid of that." He said simply, walking past the girl without another word. Or another glance in her direction. As if he just had no more to say… Though he did mutter something about Saint Jude under his breath, before he disappeared along the hall.

Lydia stared after him, just a little too thoughtfully for the poltergeist's comfort. "Hey, Beej?" She prompted suddenly, like what the other breather said might have actually gotten to her. "I think before I act, right?"

The ghost with the most leered, remembered she couldn't see it, and felt momentarily disgruntled… Before he managed, in what he figured was the honest truth, which usually worked to get the girl on his side anyway, "You think about how the hell not to get caught doing the shit you're doing." He noted, figuring it was a compliment. "That's a hell of a lot more than I do!"

Much to his relief, the girl turned on him with a grin, looking a bit more like herself. "Guess you haven't totally corrupted me yet after all." She noted, aiming a light kick at where his shins would be, if he were touching the ground… Which she had to know he wasn't.

His leer popped right back in place, and he floated over to her side, tugging lightly at the shoulder of her sleeve. "Hey babes, you ever want me to _corrupt_ you… You just gotta say the words!" And the girl of course, just rolled her eyes, and shot him a tolerant look, figuring he was kidding… Which maybe he was. So what, that was it, he just had to be his usually perverted self around the girl, _she_ wouldn't take it seriously, and his goddamn afterlife could go on as normal?

He chuckled to himself, surprisingly satisfied with this arrangement. _No fucking problem_…

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A silence hung between them, as if it was just such a big thing he'd asked… Except it wasn't. And Lydia _should_ be able to answer, easy. Instead she sat there, gazing through the mirror at the poor guy, clearly not sure what he'd said wrong. Waiting.

"It would mean, a great deal to me, Lydia." He admitted at last, his gaze worried, unguarded. His fingers working around the edge of the small, unimpressive crown, he'd taken off only a few minutes before. "If you're concerned for your parents…"

"Um…" Lydia shook her head, offering a careless gesture with her hand, and managed a small smile. "Yeah… I mean, no. My dad, I guess…" She trailed off here, and stared into space for a moment, before flicking her gaze back up to meet his. "Vincent, why can't you just come to the party, and bring cupcakes or something? If you get me a real present…"

"I have given you _real _presents before." He pointed out slowly, clearly not certain why this time was different. "Haven't you liked them?"

Lydia grimaced, lifting her hand, and started ticking off the list on her fingers. "You had a centuries old desk, delivered from the neitherworld, to my house. By two ghosts. You tracked down, and put in my name, an admittedly beautiful, undead horse. You bought me a belt, which I love, but can never wear, carved entirely from black jade… I'm pretty sure you actually had it designed for me, since you were asking me just the week before whether I preferred spiders or scorpions."

"For Christmas, just a few months ago, you tried to surprise me with an entire roll of Egyptian linen for my sewing… with genuine black gold inlay. For New Years Eve, you gave me a bottle of four thousand year old champagne. Which I'm afraid to touch, because it looks like it's spun from shattered glass. And afraid to drink, because it's worth more than some small countries. And for my _last_ birthday, you tried to have me fitted for a _crown_!"

A pause, as Lydia decided that the list was just too long, and unreal, to keep going. "Look, Vincent… Don't take this the wrong way, but your taste in gifts is a little, expensive for me. _And _my family. And I don't know what I'm going to do, if you pull some impossible present out of thin air again, this time in front of them!"

The prince frowned, slowly. "Then, it isn't my giving you a present that you have difficulty with, but…"

"But please don't bring me something worth more than my parents earn in an entire year?" She agreed, smiling wanly. "For that matter, I want them to believe you picked it up online, or at a local thrift shop… Even an antique shop… Meaning _nothing _more than fifty years old! Even if it is common in the neitherworld!"

Vincent considered this, clearly not sure what she wanted, if she didn't want him to lavish her with expensive things. "Something, simple." He agreed at last, leaning forward a little as he thought this through. "A… piece of jewelry. A ring…"

"No ring," Lydia denied hastily, "Not in front of my dad. That's the last thing we need."

A flicker of thought in his gaze, and a nod. The crown was set to the side, almost carelessly, before his hands drew together, long fingers interlacing, as his chin came to a rest on his knuckles. "A necklace then." He agreed quietly. "Will silver do? Or will that be protested as well?"

It was an odd position to be in, trying to haggle her boyfriend _down_ to a reasonable present for her birthday. And a necklace? The only jewelry she _ever_ wore… Well, that wasn't the point, was it? A nice silver necklace shouldn't cost more than thirty bucks, tops. That was good. Her parents wouldn't explode over that. "No diamonds or rubies, or anything?" She pressed, not convinced she could let her guard down yet.

For a moment, the prince didn't answer… And then, when he did, it was with an almost surprising perceptiveness. "That isn't what you want at all, is it?" He asked quietly, and then, before she could answer, going on with, "No, forgive me… I think of you as my princess. As a prince, how can I do anything else? But pretty baubles, shows of wealth, they do nothing for you." A longer pause, as he sat back again, seeming, oddly… content. "As you wish then, my Lydia. I will find something _you_ like. Something your parents won't object to." A small pause. "Do you trust me this far?"

That really was an unfair question, she reflected, given her boyfriend's previous track record. "You know what this means to me?" She asked after a moment, asking again, quickly, "You know how _important_ this is? How my parents can't find out… Or they'll never let me see you again?"

He'd been about to answer, when this last part seemed to catch him completely off guard, and he fell utterly silent, for the first time seeming to take in the true weight of her words. "Never?" He echoed softly, as if the concept was completely alien to him, and he just couldn't understand it. "My Lydia… You believe they would…"

A small sigh escaped her. "I've been lying to them for years, Vincent. Parents are kind of big on not doing that… And I had to, but that doesn't change anything." A moment to find the right way to say then, then softly, "If they find out about, everything, they can't stop me from seeing Beej, because we, well, have a contract. But you and me…"

To her surprise, he asked nothing more about the 'contract,' which she would have assumed him immediately jumping on. Instead, he offered only, "I see. Forgive me… I had thought I'd earned your parents favor. It had not occurred to me, they still disapproved of me so."

Lydia tried to find an answer to this, since the fact was, they _didn't_ disapprove… "You've been lying too." She pointed out at last, quietly. "Even if it's because of me… I don't know if they'll ever forgive you."

At her words, the prince bowed his head a little further, his small frown disappearing behind his hands completely, and he said nothing. She knew him too well though, to think that he wasn't already trying to think of a way to fix this.

He was like another ghost she knew this way, always certain there had to be somehow to turn things the way he needed them… The difference being, that the prince was actually capable of _subtlety_. Beetlejuice's idea of subtlety on the other hand, was not leaving a handwritten confession, after he tore through a china store with a sledgehammer… Though knowing him, he probably would leave an unsigned I.O.U.

At last, Lydia felt she just had to offer _something_. "Look, I know they're going to find out. If they don't figure it out on their own, I'm probably just going to come out and tell them anyway… Just, not yet." A small grimace, as she added, with a trace of humor, "At least not until I'm old enough that they can't legally send me to military school anymore."

Vincent though, barely seemed to hear her, still lost in his own thoughts, though his dark eyes did flick up briefly to acknowledge her words. It wasn't in fact, until Lydia was wondered if the guy was suddenly going to show a temper she'd never known him to have before, or at least some sign of frustration… That the prince sat back slowly, dropping his hands, and noted, quietly, "There is nothing, my Lydia, in _any_ world, that I would allow to come between us, as long as I still hold your favor."

She couldn't help but feel a slight chill at his words, as if suddenly she were facing someone very different from her soft-spoken, hesitant prince. Not for the first time, it occurred to her just how much he'd changed since that night she'd met him, when he seemed so certain she'd never accept his invitation to dance… He'd told her, not long ago, that he'd grown up for her. And she realized that she still didn't know what that meant.

But _one _thing it seemed to mean, was that unlike her, he wasn't afraid of her parents finding out the truth… About _anything_.

"Confidence like that will get us both killed." She muttered under her breath, only to be caught, by surprise, by Vincent's light touch against her hand. For a moment, she just stared at their hands together, living and dead, warm and cold, hers caught by a flush of pink, his tinged by green, and a moment of utter surrealness grasped her… In about the same moment that she reflected that how completely right it seemed.

Something _had_ changed, and it wasn't just in Vincent. Little thins like this caught her attention more and more, suddenly significant, where before she'd taken them for granted… Her eyes, tracing the lines of his hands, finding something familiar there, and good, and again, _right_. And she couldn't put her finger on why now was different.

Suddenly aware that she wasn't alone, she jerked her eyes up again, thinking she'd missed what he said, and certain that Beej had popped back in from running his 'errands,' and was about to let fly with something truly crude… But her room was still empty, and the prince was still silent, just watching her.

And he still didn't say a word in fact, as he suddenly gripped her fingers more firmly between his own, leaned forward through the mirror, and dropped his head forward, until the soft strands of his hair mingled through with hers, and she couldn't tell which was which. Then, simply, "I am already dead." He whispered, his cold breath tickling against the warmth of her face, and making her want to draw it greedily into her own chest. "At this point, the worst thing that could ever happen to me, is losing you."

For just an instant, they stayed this way, before the man from a dead world moved forward that last little inch, and their lips fell together… Soft coolness brushing against her mouth, before his seeking lips firmed against hers, and he reached with his free arm, pulling her hard against the fragile glass separating them.

Caught between his world and her own, separated from him by a thought, she felt his cold color her cheeks with heat in response, and briefly tangled her fingers in his hair, surprised herself when he would have ended the kiss, and she refused to let him… Just at first, before releasing him slowly, confused herself by the rush of emotion she'd just felt, at what should have been a simple kiss.

Vincent didn't quite draw away, moving forward again instead, until his face was buried in the curve of her neck, his breathless lips brushing lightly against her throat, until he lifted them, and whispered, too quietly for anyone else to hear, "I am _yours_, Lydia Deetz. Remember this, and you'll understand why I will never allow myself to be lost to you." And even more softly, so that she had to strain to hear, "I belong to you. I am already lost, and already fallen. Let me fight to stay with you… Please."

She couldn't breathe, couldn't think… Somewhere in the back of her mind, something approaching sense tried to form, and failed. Her mother's oldest warning, was never to make deals with the dead. She'd broken that rule within days of meeting Beetlejuice, and learned first hand how binding it could be… And here she was, tucked against someone else asking her- what? She didn't know. And the part of her that had grown to know Beetlejuice so well over the years, screamed uselessly not to agree to anything, until she knew what she was agreeing to…

And she just smiled, a small surrender in the curve of her soft mouth, as she reflected that it just wouldn't be like her, to start listening to common sense now. And what was he really asking her, anyway? For the chance to keep them together? She didn't _want_ to let go of him… And she did want to trust him.

And if she didn't love him… Then she didn't know what this was she was feeling.

A soft sound of acceptance falling from her throat, Lydia nodded, blinked, and drew away, wondering in the part of her mind determined to stay suspicious, just how binding a silent nod was. She couldn't quite look at him, but she didn't let go of his hand. Not yet. It seemed, certain. In a life that had become anything but. Like, he would just always be there.

_That would be good_, she thought to herself, still a little giddy from the kiss, and feeling both incredibly foolish, and very happy, and not sure herself why. "That's gotta be the corniest thing I've ever heard," She managed, in a hoarse little rasp, as she finally made herself meet his gaze again, "You're the only one who could say something like that, and _not_ sound like he's full of bullshit. You know that, right?"

"Perhaps." He agreed, not the least bit abashed. "But as it is… You did agree, didn't you, my Lydia?" A fleeting caress of his thumb across her cheek, searing her with icy heat, and spinning her head back into confusion with such a simple touch… And she pushed his hand away, shaking her head, not really denying it, smiling, confused, and not ready to think about what this all meant.

_God, I need some water…_ "I better go tell my parents you'll be coming then." She heard herself saying, as if nothing had just happened between them, as if one kiss hadn't made her whole world turn upside down, scared the shit out of her, and made her hope for more, all in one breath. _What is he doing to me?_ "Just remember to bring food _you _can eat… I don't want you getting sick again."

"Any requests?" He asked softly, sharp eyes devouring her confusion, as his tone showed no sign he saw. "Buttered-crème raspberry curdled cake, perhaps?"

"Sound delicious." She agreed lightly, not really sure what the hell she'd just agreed to at all. "I'll see you, um… Did you say raspberry curdled cake?" For an instant she seemed back to her usual self, intrigued by the possibility of an untried treat, and clearly weighing how edible it sounded. "I wonder if that's anything like cheesecake? Wait, buttered-crème?" A brief pause, as she reflected on this, and then, matter-of-factly, "Well, I can be sure my dad's going to hate it."

"I really am beginning to care less and less, what your father approves of." Vincent noted, in what was almost a surprising, stark defiance. "Particularly where it concerns my relationship with you."

Lydia just looked at him for a moment, before admitting, grudgingly, that this was probably the best approach. Not to mention the one she'd been using all along.

Before she could say anything else, she suddenly felt something change in the presence of the room, almost like a solid brush against her skin, and she blinked, turning to look over at Beetlejuice, who'd just walked through her wall, and appeared annoyed that she wasn't done with her 'call' yet. Rather than say anything, he just smirked, folded his hands, and like a first grader at recess, proceeded to make exaggerated kissy-faces at her across the room, complete with loud sucking sounds.

She laughed, she couldn't help it, and turned back to Vincent helplessly, gesturing in the poltergeist's direction. "So much for privacy!" And more softly, "Goodnight. I'll see you soon."

As the prince returned the farewell, and faded from her mirror, Beetlejuice watched, looking utterly amused, hands shoved in his pockets, rocking on his heels, and trying to work something loose from his jagged grin with an oddly discolored tongue. "You and Vinny," He greeted her, smug as all hell, "Lydia-freaking-Deetz, and the prince of the neitherworld. I can't get over it. Hell if I figured it'd last… Hey babes, how's it feel to piss off a whole world of people, without even trying?"

"Hmm…" Lydia gave him a dirty look, or tried to, really in far good a mood to make any unhappy look stick. "You know, even _you_ had to try, Beej. Guess that means _I'm _ahead now."

The poltergeist's leer faded, and he looked slowly disgruntled, eyeing her studyingly. "Well shit, if it's a competition you want, babes…" He growled, as she walked past him without another glance, eyes glowing as they followed her towards the door. "Hey, what the hell? At least let's set some goddamn ground rules…" He trailed off as she continued out the door, never even looking back at him.

And the ghost with the most chuckled to himself once she was safely gone, scratching a crackly spot on his neck, taking a good look around the room to make sure no one was listening, and adding, matter-of-factly, "You know, kid… I take it all back." A smug look crossed his lips, and he straightened his sleeves, like he was getting ready to go in 'juicing.'

"This growing up shit? This is gonna be _easy__…"_

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	12. Of Spiders and Roses

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

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Mrrrg... I wanted to get this chapter up sooner... But it was harder to write than the last few. Picked it apart a lot. Tried to make it as believable as possible. Hope you enjoy. Just the epilogue left, in case you haven't noticed the pattern by now. ;) Pretty much devoting that to Beej time, atm... Vincent got his time in this chapter. Heh. We'll see what else comes up.

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Lydia took the stairs more or less two at a time, loose hair flying behind her as she leapt the last three steps, stumbled, and kept going, without once slowing down. So far, Barbara was the only one in the living room, currently distracted balancing a large chocolate and lemon cake, the only reason she didn't panic over the girl's careless display… The goth girl coming to a sliding stop in front of her, bare socks on a wooden floor, and grinned, throwing her arms out for dramatic effect. "Well?"

Barbara set down the cake, carefully, straightened, and considered the girl. Lydia was clad in an enormously loose black dress that billowed with far too much fabric beneath, like she was trying to make room for three or more people to join her inside, and hung limply from her small hips, while being tight as skin above, strappy, and just barely modest enough for her parents not to throw a fit… It wasn't immediately obvious what to say.

"What do you think? Lydia beamed, looking as happy as the ghost woman had ever seen her… Giving a dramatic flare of her skirts, a graceful little half bow, and looking more like she was preparing for her prom, than a quiet birthday dinner at home. "I've never made anything like it… Does it look okay?" Her words caught as she ran out of breath, still struggling to catch her air from her race downstairs, cascades of long, black spider webs tossed carelessly about her face, and catching on her lips.

The ghost woman made a small sound of surprise, then what sounded like fond sadness, for no reason the younger girl could understand. "Lydia, I can't believe how grown up you look… I swear, you really are a young woman in that dress! I just don't know-!" Her fingers went to her mouth, helplessly, and she just shook her head, smiling, like she was foolishly proud of the girl for looking her age.

Barbara's reaction was enough to cast a sense of humor on the situation, and it was all Lydia could do not to laugh… Even if her heart was pounding in her chest like a demon, and every inch of her skin felt like it carried a flush. "Good!" Lydia seemed satisfied by this answer, heaving a deep sigh, and casting a studious eye around, to see, oddly enough, how_ little_ decoration had been set up. She'd been very adamant about that part after all…

Her friend though, followed her line of sight, and didn't seem nearly so pleased. "A few balloons wouldn't have looked so bad," She pointed out, with just a trace of annoyance, "This is your sweet sixteen, Lydia… Even a paper-mache bat would be better than nothing!"

"Huh." Lydia murmured noncommittally, personally satisfied with how little ceremony there would be to attend the day… If this didn't get the point across to her boyfriend after all, nothing would. Everything would be perfect, the food, the present, the dress, the decorations, the boyfriend…

The only thing missing, was her _best_ friend. But for once, she hadn't even bothered to remind him that her birthday was coming up… Not that he ever showed up anyway. She supposed, to a guy around as long as he'd been, the celebration of turning a year older didn't mean much. And it wasn't like he could even be part of the fun. Still, it would have been nice, just once.

_Kinda funny, the prince of the neitherworld can show up, but my parents would flip over a ghost like him. Big time_. Of course, they didn't actually know Vincent was the prince, and what they didn't know…

"Lydia?" She realized that her friend had been trying to get her attention, giving her a puzzled look as she didn't respond. "Not that it bothers me, you inviting Vincent," She went on, when she was certain she had the girl's attention, "But why now? Why not every other year? I'm sure his parents would have brought him… They bring him every year for your Halloween Dance."

There were so many things wrong with that statement, Lydia didn't even know where to begin. "Um… Things change." She heard herself mutter dismissively, unwilling to be any more specific than this. "I don't know. I'm not a kid anymore, and it's not like we haven't been dating forever by this point…" The truth was, she didn't want to think about it too deeply herself, and not for the reasons she expected. This was about more these days, than simply more and more thinly veiled secrets.

"Four years is forever." Barbara murmured, looking mildly amused. "I remember what that's like." Patting the girl lightly on the shoulder, she steered her towards the couch. "Come on, there's just enough time left for me to put your hair up."

The goth girl grimaced, and veered away from her pull, giving the ghost woman an exasperated glance. "My hair is _fine_." She muttered, sweeping the loose strands aside, as they threatened to obscure her vision. "It's long now, I should wear it down." She avoided Barbara's grasp again, as the other woman murmured something about 'just a few bobby pins…'

No sooner had she protested again that her hair was perfect the way it was, than it seemed like the rest of her family decided to join her in one massive swarm, grins and pats and congratulations all around. Like they hadn't each wished her a happy birthday a dozen times that day. All she could do was bear it with good humor… Even if sometimes they made such a big deal out of it, that it was nice to go back to hanging out with someone else, when it was over, who didn't care either way.

Even the tense air between her mother and father had lifted for the night, and it seemed like things would be going back to normal for a while… Adam teased her with an elastic cone hat, eyes dancing behind his glasses, and Lydia, somehow, managed to stave off his attack as well, laughing the whole time. "Come on, stop that!" She grinned, dodging his most recent attempt to place the silly thing firmly on her head. "Vincent's going to be here any minute!"

At the mention of the ghost prince, Edmond frowned, just a little, before quickly changing the subject, complimenting Barbara on her cake. The tension between _them _was obvious, and momentarily made things awkward, but at least the man was trying… Lydia was grateful for that.

"Don't forget," She interrupted, before that little conversation could go downhill, "Vincent's bringing a cake too." Every eye in the room turned briefly to her, all other conversation forgotten. Not her intention at all. "You know… food, sensitivities."

Blessedly, the doorbell chose that moment to ring, and Lydia leapt from her spot like a horse from the gate, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open, grateful at this point for any interruption… Her eyes landed on the dead prince with a sense of relief, and she shot him a small, genuine smile, and stepped back, gesturing widely for him to move past her.

Instead, Vincent came only as far as the door, managed in one hand to balance both heavy cardboard box, and slender, fancily wrapped roll, and took hers gently with the other, bowing his head to brush his lips against the back of it… His eyes devouring her with a look she was only now getting used to. "You look like a princess, my Lydia." He murmured, before only reluctantly letting her go, and turning to Barbara. "The cake should go, where, Mrs. Maitland?" He asked politely, recovering quite smoothly from his moment of open admiration over the goth girl's appearance.

"Oh, right here on the coffee table!" Barb assured him, quickly sweeping in, and snagging it from his grasp, smiling all the while. "And call me Barbara! Mrs. Maitland is too formal… You're our Lydia's date, we want you to feel like family!"

Vincent's eyes followed her, clearly remembering Lydia's warning of secrets and lies… "I am, pleased to hear that, Barbara." He agreed, just a little cautiously. "I would like very much to be welcome here."

"Mind you, it usually _is_ just family…" Edmond interjected without warning, receiving a dirty look from Lydia's mother, which for the moment, he ignored. "Sort of a tradition, we keep birthdays to ourselves. I was a bit surprised, Lydia wanting to invite you all of a sudden…"

Vincent turned his head, just enough to acknowledge the man, and noted, without any trace of having just been made unwelcome, "I assure you Mr. Deetz, I already consider my Lydia to be family." A heavy sense of his words being unexpected followed this, which the prince utterly ignored, turning to Lydia as if nothing out of the ordinary had just been said. "I hope you like your gift," He murmured, holding out the slender roll of wrapping, "I went to some effort to choose this one well."

Smiling, genuinely even, despite the sense that a boundary had just been irrevocably crossed, Lydia accepted the present, and was briefly surprised at how light it was. Just paper? Heavy paper… _Oh god, tell me he didn't get me a Picasso_… No, no, she'd been very clear, and he had promised. She had to trust him. "Give me a hint?" She teased, making a show of tipping it slowly back and forth, only to find it evenly balanced. Trying not to show how much her heart was fluttering in her chest.

"You may open it whenever you please." He denied, insomuch as it was a denial. "But I would like to see your reaction, without being given forewarning." He seemed, oddly anticipant, like he really expected this time to be something special. It was all she could do, not to squeeze the fragile present tightly in her hands… And he read the reaction easily, looking pleased.

She turned her eyes over the soft gray and black paper hopefully, unable to suppress just the smallest thrill of excitement… Vincent's gifts might not always be appropriate, but they were always exciting. Before she could decide whether or not to open it though, her foster father snagged the present lightly from her hands, making her give a little cry of protest… And making Vincent, she saw from just the corner of her eyes, suddenly look ready to spit daggers.

"Presents later?" She groaned, putting on a smile for her date's sake, more than Adam's. "You are such a buzz kill, you know that, right?"

"Tradition is tradition, young lady." He informed her firmly, setting the precious gift carelessly aside, along with the other gifts from her family. "First pictures, then cake, _then_ presents." He added, with a glance towards the neitherworld boy, "You, are spoiling her."

Slowly, Vincent's hackles lowered, and he even summoned a small, amused look, as he offered honestly, "It is my every intention to spoil your daughter, Mr. Maitland. In every way I am able." This said though, he turned back to Lydia, as if that simply settled that, and mused softly, "I was told there would be photos… I would hope to share at least one with you, dear Lydia."

Lydia hoped so too… Rather certain that the alternative was him just showing up a colorful blur of light, like last time. Considering that there would be no 'fixing' the camera this time, she _really_ hoped so. He'd assured her he was ready for it, even if it went against every rule she knew about photographing the dead. In this too, she'd just have to trust him… God, she hoped she could trust him. She was crazy about the guy, but sometimes he had the common sense of a wooden nickel!

"Anyway…" She demurred, rather than answering, "Do you like my dress?" She grabbed a handful of skirts in either hand, and still barely made a dent in the thick fabric. "It doesn't look like a bridesmaid's getup, does it?"

Vincent's eyes glinted, and he shook his head, very solemnly. "I assure you… You look nothing like a bridesmaid to me, my Lydia." And after to let whatever he _wasn't_ saying there sink in, he added, graciously, "It suits you very well. But do you expect me to say anything else, knowing almost certainly that you fashioned _this _yourself as well?"

Resisting her impulse to flip off the prince of the neitherworld, she just crossed her arms, and smirked, knowing damn well that he didn't mean it as a backhanded compliment. "No," She agreed tolerantly, choosing to let it go, "But I don't expect you to let me go around looking like an idiot either. There's got to be some middle ground somewhere."

"It was a textbook answer, honey." Adam informed her, straight-faced. "Straight from the 'don't piss off your girlfriend' handbook." He added, for Vincent's sake, "Lydia on the other hand, isn't a textbook case, in any sense."

To her surprise, Vincent didn't seem at all thrown off by the bizarre, and fictitious reference, just nodding, as if he could only agree, and making a small gesture with his hand towards the couch, inviting Lydia silently to sit with him. "I am certain of this," He assured all present, as she accepted his hand, and his 'assistance' sitting down, "Lydia is like no other woman _I_ have met."

Woman, he called her. It had an odd, electric taste, the way he said it. Like despite the huge difference in years between them, he'd never considered her any less for it, and certainly didn't now… And something else too. As if something was different in the way he thought of her these days. Certainly, in the way he looked at her… He took her hand again as he sat beside her, brushing the fingers of his opposite one across the loose trail of dark strands along her face, in an absent gesture.

Barbara beamed, and folded her hands over her chest happily. "Do you remember being that young, Adam?" She whispered, as her husband took the opportunity to slide his own hand around the woman's waist, and lean in to kiss her temple.

"I remember." He assured her sagely, sneaking in a quick squeeze of her side with a flick of his fingers, and looking innocent when she protested the stolen tickle. "What? I was just proving that I remember!"

Lydia nudged Vincent with her elbow, nodding towards the two lovey-dovey spirits with a smug expression. "When they get like that, we practically have to turn the fire-hoses on them." She whispered… moving just a little too close to the older boy's ear in doing so, she realized, as her father's attention turned from the Maitland's, very quickly, to how close she was sitting to her date. "Uh-oh…" She murmured now, drawing back away, and giving her father as harmless a look as she could summon.

"So, Vincent," Edmond prompted, as if suddenly deciding that _now_ was the time to learn more about his daughter's boyfriend, "What grade are you in now? Lydia never mentioned anything about your schooling… Are you a Junior? A Senior?"

The prince flicked his gaze to the man, clearly wanting to do as little with him as possible, and not hiding it well anymore. "I was privately tutored." He denied, well aware by now what the different grade titles meant. "If you're referring to how much schooling I have remaining, however… Then only what I choose to pursue. All my necessary lessons have been completed."

"So… You're a graduate." Edmond took his time, sitting in the chair across from them, his question clearly a weighted one. "Now that you mention it, I never did ask… Just how much older are you, than my daughter?"

The casualness of the question was a deceptive one, and there wasn't a person there that didn't know it. Vincent included. Adam though, just frowned, making no effort to protest, as if now he was suddenly curious as well… And when Barbara _would_ have said something, Olivia, unsurprisingly, was ready with her irritation first. Though all she said, was, "You just can't leave things alone, can you? You know damn well that he can't be more than a couple years older than she is!" in a low mutter.

"It's a simple question, Olivia." Edmond denied, not giving an inch to his wife. "And one I think I deserve to know the answer to, considering that neither one of us knows just how long they've been sneaking off together." A small pause, before he stressed, "And don't tell me you think they've really been together this long, and haven't been lying to us. She _is _our daughter."

Lydia was already seething at the first unspoken accusation… This second, more pointed one, was just about all she could take. As much as anything, because she didn't want Vincent to _have _to lie for her, and she knew damn well that the truth was out of the question. "Dad…" She muttered, more than fed up with the man, and willing to bring it to words there and then, birthday party notwithstanding.

Her boyfriend put his hand on her arm, making her pause as something changed visibly in him, sort of a sense of settling, like a dangerous beast squaring off before an opponent… All without so much as shifting in his seat. "I'm well aware that you don't like me, Mr. Deetz." He met her father's accusation flatly. "That you in fact, never have. Is it really _necessary _for you to continue to search for reasons for your disapproval though, considering that you've long since made your decision?"

Clearly, no one was expecting this direct confrontation, least of all her father. It wasn't how these things worked. But before the silence could dissolve into something uncomfortable, Vincent proved he wasn't done just yet. "For whatever satisfaction it gives you though, as you are my Lydia's father, I _will_ answer you… I am currently some past three years older than your daughter." Which was technically true, she supposed. "Will that suffice?"

It was, in not so many words, a laying down of a line between them, and a clear willingness of Vincent, who had just laid down said line, to cross it at the slightest provocation… And her dad, who for all she knew, had _never_ met anyone who'd actually been willing to stand their ground against him- other than herself- looked rather like the floor had just fallen out from under him, and he no longer really knew what the stuff _was _that he was standing on now.

"You were dating my twelve year old daughter, when you were _fifteen_…" He managed at last, still visibly set off his step, but doing his best to at least take advantage of this new information, "And you don't think that's a legitimate reason for me to disapprove of you?"

"It may be reason," Vincent denied, for his part, never backing down, "It may even be legitimate, I certainly never saw it that way, myself, but I can't deny that it might well be reason enough for you."

"That fact being said however… You have _never_ needed reason to attempt to stand between myself and your daughter. And by this point, I truly no longer have any interest in garnering either your friendship, or your approval." More softly, all without ever rising from beside her, he finished quietly, simply, without so much as lifting a hair, by saying, "I am not a fool, and I will not waste my time pursuing what I already know you will never offer."

No one had expected this, not from the quiet, polite boy they thought they knew… Maybe Lydia least of all, who couldn't stop staring at him, truly impressed, and a little scared by what might happen next. Boyfriends didn't _do_ that to their girlfriend's fathers. They tolerated them, avoided them, tried to weasel up to them, and put them down behind their backs… But Vincent had more or less placed a chip on his shoulder, stood in front of the man, and without flinching, dared him to knock it off.

And it was clear that no one knew how to react. Not even her father. He just sat there, looking a bit like he'd just taken a blow to the head, and stared, coldly, not saying a word… Until at last, with a soft growl, he finally rose from his chair with that familiar ultimatum that had been uttered since time began… "You will respect me, young man! Lydia is _my_ daughter, and as long as she lives under _my_ roof…!"

"That's enough, Edmond." Of all the people who could have interrupted the building rant, of all that people who were _likely_ to, it baffled the hell out of Lydia to see _Adam Maitland_, the patient, quiet spoken, well thought out man she'd known all her life to take whatever came at him without flinching… Suddenly looking like he'd just had enough.

"Before you give that tired old speech about Lydia living under _your_ roof, you might remember that the only claim you _ever_ had to this roof was through marriage to _my_ daughter." A surprisingly flat, angry stare from his normally gentle eyes, as he added, "In fact, of all the people in this room? You are the one who holds the _least_ claim to _this_ roof."

It was surreal… And Lydia briefly felt like she was watching some movie about some other person's life. This kind of drama just didn't happen in hers. It couldn't. And yet there Vincent was, still beside her, never even having risen to his feet to state his challenge, and there was Adam, facing off directly against the man who'd made it more clear with every day that the two ghosts were no longer welcome in their own family…

And her father just stared, like this made no sense at all. Again, as if this just wasn't the way these things were supposed to work. And when his words failed him, and he turned to the one person left in the room who might still side with him… The one person left in the _world_… And Olivia wouldn't even meet his gaze. Her pale cheeks flushed with anger, her eyes downcast, she didn't say a _word _in his defense.

Clearly, he hadn't expected the people he'd spent the last twenty or so years sharing his life with, to side with his daughter's boyfriend, who they barely knew, over _him_… But this was exactly what had just happened. And understandably, he didn't know how to react.

And then Lydia swore she saw it, visibly, like she could capture the exact moment with her eyes, that something in her father just… gave way. Nothing in the way he stood. Nothing in his gaze, or the angry set of his mouth… And yet somehow the man that stood there in front of her just wasn't as strong as he'd been only an instant before. As if he'd just lost his reason to be strong.

Without another word, he turned, walked to the door, pulled it open, and walked out. It closed behind him with a note of finality, not even a proper slam to mark his protest… Which was really more like a retreat.

"Damn it." Barbara whispered. Barbara, who _never_ swore. But she didn't seem to be directing the angry curse towards Adam, or Olivia, or even Vincent. The loose fabric of her skirts caught up in bone white fists, she shook her head, looking angry as anything, and all she could say was, "Lydia… I'm so sorry. You're birthday is ruined, I'm _so_ sorry…"

And with that, it finally occurred to Lydia that this was all real, that it had all actually happened, and that Barbara was more upset about her party being spoiled than she was. She got up in one smooth motion, leaving Vincent on the couch, and took the ghost woman into her arms- No easy feat, as Barb was a good foot taller than her- Tugging her down into her embrace comfortingly. "Don't sweat it," She murmured under her breath, "I'd always figured it for ending up a hell of a lot worse than that."

Of course, they hadn't even begun to delve into their real problems yet… But damn if _that _couldn't wait for another day.

----------------

The really strange thing of course, after all the smoke cleared, and the angry words had faded away, and there was no one left to argue with… Was just how little any of them were really affected by her father's leaving. The mood was more somber, true, but it wasn't quite like going through the motions, like it should have been, after an explosion like that. It was still her party. And against all odds, it still seemed to be going relatively well.

And at any other time, that would worry her. But for the moment, she was just glad it hadn't been Beetlejuice in that situation with her dad… God only knew how dead the man would be now, which would have put a serious strain on her relationship with her best friend. This? This could still be fixed. And there was cake to think of. Cake made everything more bearable. And even if it felt wrong to be enjoying the picture-taking, and the fabulous cakes both her friends had provided, even if it seemed far too easy to have him slide out of the picture, and things still go on as normal…

In the end, by the time she bit into the treat that Vincent had brought, she no longer even noticed he wasn't there. It wasn't like he'd ever been a big part of her life anyway… Adam had always played the part of dad to the girl, and he did now too. "I've… never actually tasted anything like this before." Adam noted slowly, rolling the bite of cake around in his mouth, and reaching, as inconspicuously as possible, for his glass of lemonade. "What type of food allergies did you say you had?"

"More, food sensitivities." Vincent denied easily, having seemed to become more comfortable with the man. "I assure you, if you don't like it, you don't have to eat it. You won't damage my feelings." He added, with a glance towards Lydia, "That would go for you as-" He paused, at the sight of the slight, dark girl, her mouth currently a little more than politely full, who was already digging her fork back in to get her next bite. He bowed his head a little, concealing his smile. "Never mind then."

Lydia hastily managed to swallow the sweet curds of cream, tasting heavily of over-ripened raspberries, and did her best not to look embarrassed. "What?" She grumbled, lifting the next bite to cover her own smirk. "Just because you don't have a stomach for the stuff I eat, doesn't mean I don't like the stuff you eat!" She did however, reach for a napkin, quite certain her eating manners were, ah, lacking.

"You know, Vincent," Barbara prompted suddenly, poking at her own piece of neitherworld food, probably her first sample ever, uncertainly, "If you'd told me you couldn't eat chocolate, you wouldn't have gotten sick last time. I don't want you eating anything that's going to upset your stomach, just to keep from hurting my feelings."

The prince gave her an even look, before noting, almost with a sense of offering between them, "I shall keep that in mind, Barbara, if you will do the same." Barbara lifted her head, looking faintly surprised… Followed by a sheepish expression, as she set her plate aside, and reached for a slice of the dessert she'd made instead.

"I will say one thing for this cake," Adam noted, carefully setting his dish aside as well, "It's very, _sweet_. I'm guessing sugar isn't one of those foods you can't stomach."

"Perhaps not," Vincent agreed, already turning his attention back to Lydia as he answered, "Though actually, it's more of a fermented molasses in this case… Lydia. Is there anything I can do to make this meal more enjoyable for you?" He moved his arm to rest on his knee, considering her with a tender look. "More to drink? Or perhaps you'd like some music, to accompany your dessert?"

Lydia shook her head, reflecting briefly that the guy really tried too hard sometimes… And yet other times, he seemed to know exactly what she wanted, without even asking. "I think I'm just going to finish eating, then get to my presents." She denied lightly, though really she was already full… This was her second piece after all, since she hadn't wanted to hurt Barb's feelings either. She paused, and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Still no hints?"

"No, no hints, my Lydia." He denied, finally drawing away from her to stand… And making her briefly gawk, at just how tall he was. She forgot sometimes, but when she was sitting, and he was standing, it became pretty obvious. "Mrs. Maitland, can I help you with the dishes?" His offer too surprised Lydia, though she supposed it shouldn't. True, he was a _prince_… But he was also extremely well-mannered.

Usually.

The ghost woman tried to refuse, but in the end, Vincent helped her carry the plates into the kitchen… Including the one that Lydia was currently taking smaller and smaller bites from, much to her relief. She gave him a grateful look, and he just nodded, clearly seeing through her attempt to hide just how full she was.

But this in turn, left her alone with Adam… and her mother. And she wasn't really sure what to expect from either one. So she bit the tip of her thumb lightly, looking from one to the other, waiting to see which one of them was going to ask some weird, unanswerable question first.

"Okay, I have to ask," Adam blurted suddenly, leaning intently forward, "Does he _always_ talk like that? I mean, I'd always just thought he was just staying in character for his Halloween costume but…" He made an absent gesture towards the kitchen, "The kid talks like he's from another century! Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that…" He dropped back again, slowly, noting, "It's just a little, _strange_, don't you think?

From another century? Funny, _she'd_ never caught on that well. "It's weird," She admitted, relieved that this was the most condemning thing that Adam seemed to have to say about him, "But I kind of like it. I don't know, his family's really big on 'properness,' so it's probably how he was raised."

"Is his _family_, from another century?" Her mother asked after a moment more, though there didn't seem to be any actual suspicion in her question. Rather, she was smiling, clearly making a joke. "I didn't think they made people like him anymore. Are you sure it isn't all for show?"

"He'd be a hell of an actor…" Lydia mused, taking in the sight of the prince as he came back into the room, dressed like any living boy his age, except for his clothes being just a touch too perfectly made, and except for him being just a little too well groomed. "Hey Vincent? You ever taken acting lessons?"

"As few as possible." He denied easily, not coming in again to sit beside her, but heading straight towards her presents, and lifting his mysterious gift first, clearly ready for her to open it now. "I never had the confidence for the stage, I'm afraid." …And of course, coming from the man standing before them now, that made no sense in hell, but she had to remember, this was also a guy who'd been too unsure of himself to so much as age, for over two hundred years.

But clearly, Adam thought it was a little odd as well. "You don't really strike me as a young man with a self confidence issue." He noted, looking a bit thoughtful, then, dryly, "Don't worry, I'll grab the rest of Lydia's presents."

Vincent gave the other ghost a brief look, seemed amused, and continued to Lydia's side, coming to a stop in front of her, and dropping, both smoothly and unexpectedly, to his knees. Adam paused, seeming to forget what he'd been doing, and just watched, clearly no longer sure what to expect from the man. "Lydia," Vincent murmured, pressing the gift into her hands, "Open it. Please."

If her tongue was suddenly dry as cotton, which it was, her fingers were also about as useful as a marionette's, and she just sat there a moment, speechless, wondering if he was going to make scenes like this in front of her parents often.

Then though, a curl of warmth softened her chest, like a wisp of warm breath, and she sighed, realizing for the first time that, just as she'd long since known she had to accept Beetlejuice for being Beetlejuice, the same principle probably applied here, and she would just have to accept Vincent for being Vincent.

A tug at the ribbon, and it fell away as if designed to, and the rice-paper thin wrapper unfolded at her touch, almost as if under a will of its own. It _was_ a thick roll of paper inside, she realized, and lifted one eyebrow, curious and concerned… And intrigued. Leaving the wrapping untouched in her lap, she unrolled the thick scroll carefully…

Her first impression was that the picture within was beautifully penned… ink, parchment, and no more, lovely sweeping curves and stark lines, each a perfect glistening black, with no trace of smudge. It was beautiful… And undeniably sad. An image of a single wilted rose, caught up by countless strands of webbing, still hung up in death by its silk, as if in some mockery of life, while a large and fearsome spider guarded over its corpse… Its slender leg, lightly stroking one wilted petal. Again, all in black. And below this, in a language she'd seen before, three words she couldn't read.

"Um…" She held out her hand, her fingertips almost brushing the surface of the paper, a strange need to offer comfort to the image captured within. It was beautiful though, that couldn't be denied… But right then, she needed to know something. "Vincent, what does it say?"

"It says, 'I promise, never.'" He told her softly, deep gaze searching her features to take in every reaction. What he was expecting, she had no idea.

When she could only turn her eyes to him, puzzled, he laid his hand gently over the one on her knee, and murmured, "It is said that there was a spider who desired to find the world's greatest beauty, and keep her always, at any cost. When he came upon a rose like none he'd ever seen, he thought to protect her from everything that might ever cause her harm, and wrapped her in strand after strand of strong webbing, and there she stood, protected and lovely, where he could keep her for his own, and admire her always."

"But his silks kept away more than the insects that would feast on her petals… They kept away the rain that kissed her face, and soothed her roots. They kept away the winds that brought breath to her each day. They kept away the hummingbirds, and the bees, and the butterflies that kept her company… Even kept the sun, from bathing her in its light."

A small pause here, significant. "And little by little, his perfect rose died, for lack of the things she loved. And held up so by his webbing, the spider didn't even realize she was fading away, until there was nothing left of her but a dried husk, permanently hung within her prison. And he could only remain beside her corpse, and know it was because of him."

It was a strange little story, and the whole time she listened, Lydia stared at the picture, and wondered why he was telling her this. Why he would give her _this_, and not something else. "Lydia?" She lifted her head again, but didn't quite turn her attention back to him. "I drew this picture for you, myself, and etched the words at the bottom. It is my promise to you. Do you understand?"

At last she flicked her eyes to him, something vulnerable to her gaze, as she was swept from enjoying her birthday, to being told a story which, against all sense, suddenly made her deeply sad. This, despite the fact that it might have been told in a small child's storybook. All she could do though, was shake her head. No, she didn't understand.

"Hm." Vincent dipped his head briefly, then took her hand in a firmer grip. "It means I will never shut you away from the things you love in life, simply to keep you to myself. I will never let you wilt away, simply because I cannot stand to share you… I will never ask you to live your existence locked away, or try to make you a trophy in a cage. Lydia… I promise. _Never_."

And Lydia just stared at him, feeling a bit like she was seeing him… like someone she'd never seen before. All the time he called her princess, and gave her all these fancy things, and talked about forever, in a castle in a faraway land…

And not for the first time, it occurred to her that she'd be losing _everything_, to be with him. Even losing herself. Always trying to live up to someone else's expectations… Well, that was what being a princess _was_, wasn't it? Playing dress up, and worrying about proper manners, and how she looked to other people, _for the rest of her life_. And she'd never realized before, how much that had always scared her. How much that pushed her away from him.

So what was he saying now? That it didn't have to be that way? That being with him, didn't mean giving up her family, and the living world, and goddamnit, _Beetlejuice_, and dressing inappropriately, and being sarcastic… Could it really work that way?

He seemed to want it to work that way. And so did she. And-

_What the fuck, am I crying?_ She rubbed the back of her hand hastily across her cheek, saw to her horror that it was true, and turned bright red, trying at once not to fully fall out bawling- why she had no damn idea- and to wipe away the incriminating tears at the same time. "Damn it," She whispered, angrily, like she was mad at him, "What did you-?" But Vincent for his part, looked completely baffled, and more than a little worried, suddenly without anything to say.

"You… don't like it." He whispered at last, looking a bit wilted himself, and slowly drawing his hand away. "I should have- No, I _should _have gotten you a silver necklace as you asked for, I never should have presumed you would-!"

"Damn it, shut up." She whispered, cutting him off, before saying almost in the same breath, "I think I love you, you idiot…" Just a murmur, the words just sort of coming out unexpectedly. Half insult, as if angry over her own confession, and how vulnerable it made her feel. But not angry anymore at all, and pretty certain this was a bad way to say it. She grabbed one of many corners of her skirt to wipe her eyes off on. What could black eyeliner do to a black skirt, anyway?

"P-pardon?" Vincent asked slowly, his face going a little slack, his eyes utterly confused. "That is- My Lydia… Did you say…?"

"Yeah." Already feeling a little more herself, which meant at the moment, humiliated, she managed an embarrassed smile, and did her best not to look at any of the other people she suddenly remembered were still in the room with them. "Romantic, right? Sorry. Not really feeling up to rose petals and champagne right now."

"Too young for champagne…" She thought she heard Adam mutter behind her, the only other one brave enough to offer anything.

Lydia's eyebrows furrowed helplessly, despite the fact that it felt like a _huge_ weight had just lifted off her shoulders. She'd said it. Maybe she'd known it for a while, she wasn't sure herself. But it felt damn good to get it out in the open. "Um, so… I'm not saying it again in front of my parents. Just so you know." Somewhere behind her, Barbara already going on about _our Lydia's first love_…

"I… think I can accept that." The prince agreed, the look of dazed confused on his face slowly giving way to, well, almost a sort of light that seemed just as quickly swallowed up by the impossible black of his eyes. It hadn't seemed to occur to him yet to smile, but he grasped both her hands in his, his grip both incredibly firm, but still shaking… Like he had no intention of letting go, despite suddenly feeling too weak to stand.

Then he did stand, with a sound that, she swore, made everything in the room shift, just a little, as he swept her into his arms, picking her up off the couch, and holding her some feet off the ground, clutched against him, as he buried his lips in her hair. And her heart meanwhile, was pounding at an insane, terrified rate, as she'd never heard the prince so much as lift his voice over a low speech before… And that, _that_! For a moment, unsure what the hell had just happened, and how he had her trapped in such a strong grip, and-

And then she felt his energy, twisting against her at his closeness. It started as a sense like a breeze, caressing up her spine with tickling kitten whiskers, and quickly grew to a hum that spread like heat through every inch of her body, until her skin felt like it burned where he touched her, and her blood seemed to turn to dancing pulses of ice… And she closed her eyes, and went limp against him, not sure in those moments if she was in pain, or more right than she'd ever been in her life. Every sense was alive with the taste of lightning, just _pouring _out her fingertips…

"I think you're killing me…" She whispered, with just a trace of a smile, like she didn't really care, as long as this was the way she died. She was kidding of course, at least she thought she was, but Vincent's reaction was immediate… He didn't drop her though, like she'd expected, he just pulled all his energy back in, quickly, leaving her feeling oddly like a drained, achy shell.

"Ow." Lydia murmured, no longer having fun… Though only an instant passed before her own heat and energy seemed to returned more gently, eager to fill the vacuum left. "A little more slowly next time…" She grumbled. She was fascinated to note though, how acutely aware of her own energy she felt now, almost as if she could twist it around her fingers, like tendrils of smoke…

And then that feeling too was gone, and she was just left looking up at her boyfriend, a little dizzy, like she'd just woken up from an odd dream, but smiling again. "Hell of a hug, Vinny." She greeted him, unconsciously using one of Beetlejuice's names for the prince. He looked worried, like he thought he really might have hurt her… Which for all she knew, he almost did. But hell, she couldn't have him worried about _that_, could she?

Still in his grasp, still cradled in midair, she wrapped her arms around the prince's neck, pulled herself up with one motion, until she was face to face with him, and planted her lips firmly on his, ignoring both his surprise, and her parents' half-hearted objections. Her parents, who had apparently completely missed the obvious exchange only moments before. _Mm, he tastes like raspberries… Over-ripe raspberries… And sweet cream_.

Combined with the light-headedness, it was a very pleasant sensation. But it did raise a question. _Where have I tasted that before? _When Lydia realized the obvious, she started giggling so hard that she broke the kiss, and fell against him, breathing, so no one else could hear, "You taste like cake…" And softly, that rare, wonderful sound against her skin… Vincent. Laughing.

She couldn't wait to tell Beetlejuice _everything_…

_----------------_


	13. An Unexpected Resolution

Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.

For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!

------------------

Okay, so, check it out. A few things I wanna say. Bear with me. First and foremost... For the love of mercy, I need to get back to a real Beetlejuice and Lydia fic! ...The problem being, I've hinted a few times about sequels to this one. Two in fact. I don't like not following through. But I can't frigging figure out how I want to write any more than this... I keep changing my mind, and in half my ideas, Lydia turns right back around, and ends up with Beej anyway! (We know how that turns out, right?) Since the whole point was a Vincent/Lydia fic, I'm thinking I should just leave as is. Thirteen chapters, one fic, a happy ending...

Oh, and this leads to another problem. Some might think this chapter ends in a cliff hanger. I for one, do not. I think it ends with possibility. That's always a good thing. Isn't it?

So be honest, really honest here... Is anyone going to freak out if I take a little break to go over some of my work, and come back with a sequel to Worth of a Soul, instead? Somehow, I have trouble believing you will... But right now, I may not be thinking too straight.

_My kingdom for more Beetlejuice!_

----------------

"-The hell?" Beetlejuice demanded again, still looking at the girl like she'd somehow spontaneously sprouted a second head over the last few minutes. It was the third time he'd said it… He seemed no more ready to believe it now. "Come again, babes? You're shitting me here, right?"

They'd gone over some of the events of the day before, and over most of it, the poltergeist had grunted, accepted, and not seemed overly impressed by. But when it came to _why_ her dad had decided to leave in such a hurry… "Don't tell me you're impressed, or anything." Lydia frowned, hunched over the glass display thoughtfully. "Damn it, what the hell? Don't these people know I need my butterscotch?"

Beetlejuice blinked, looked at her, and snorted. "Thought lemon drops were your thing, Lyds… But seriously, what the _hell_? When did his royal '_oh, I'm too scared to grow up_,' drop a pair like that?" Lydia grimaced, kicking him absently as she drew away from the bins. Beetlejuice just had such _class_… "I mean, this is the guy who couldn't get a chick's attention if he glued fifty dollar bills to his ass!"

"Seriously, Beej… I don't even know where to start with that one." She grudgingly turned her back on the barrels of sugary sweets, an odd craving for butterscotch on her tongue- like frickin butterscotch was so hard to find- and a sudden desire to take the conversation elsewhere. Possibly because of the odd stares they were drawing from kids still in single digits… Despite the fact that she'd pretty much grown up around the guy, some of the things that Beetlejuice said, just were _not_ kid friendly. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here. I still want to see if that bitch is guarding the door again this week."

As they started towards the door, Lydia heard a squeaky voice rise out of nowhere, and declare in an unrestrained tone, "Your boyfriend needs a bath, lady! He smells like my neighbor's cat!"

For one unreal moment, Lydia was absolutely certain that the girl wasn't talking to _them_. Because honestly, who would be stupid enough to say something like that to Beetlejuice? The poltergeist turned a little, lifting one eyebrow, and took in the sight of the kid… About four foot nothing, with flat blond hair, and a little yellow sun dress. Tall for her age. Absolutely defiant, condescending blue eyes, that she swore made the girl look like nothing less than a shorter version of an old nemesis.

Beetlejuice gestured at the girl with his thumb, lazily, looking incredulous. "She's fucking kidding me, right?" He muttered, nothing so much as amused. "The pixie stix's smart-mouthing me? Really?"

"Forget it, Beej. If anything, you smell like a wet basement." Lydia teased, not really worried about the guy going off on someone half her age… Not _really_ worried, anyway.

Both his eyebrows flew up, and he smirked, rocking a little on his toes, before turning back to the boldly spoken sprite. "So… Your neighbor's cat, huh?" He murmured, all but purring the words. The goth girl's expression immediately turned to a frown… This was Beetlejuice after all. Maybe she shouldn't underestimate him. "Anyone ever told you, kitty's got claws?"

And he drew his hand out of his pocket, just enough to reveal long, jagged, browned talons, on the end of knobby wizened fingers, grinning just the nastiest grin he could. His eyes suddenly going gold and long, he flicked out a sharp, purple tongue at her, and hissed… Making the child staring at him start screaming at the top of her lungs, before turning, and running to the other end of the store, presumably to her mother.

Lydia took the opportunity to snag the poltergeist by the jacket, and drag him bodily from the store, cursing at him as creatively as she could think of under her breath. "Seriously, she had to be seven years old, Beetlejuice-"

"Ah," He interrupted absently, not putting up a fight as she made their escape, "B-word, babes."

"_Beetlejuice!_" She yelled defiantly, spinning on him, and making him sneer, and cackle softly. Just daring her to say it again. Knowing damn well she wouldn't. She just glared at him, while he gave her this cocky little look, like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and well, damn if he was going to stop now!

It only took a handful of seconds before Lydia gave in, grinning guiltily, certain she should feel worse for what he'd just done. "You are such an ass." She informed him, not even really annoyed, and all too aware that she was giving in to him again, same as always. Just like he'd probably known she would. "Seriously, what is up with you? Do you _ever_ hear a little voice in your head that tells you that something's a bad idea?"

"Just you, babes." He assured her matter-of-factly, dropping in behind her with a smirk, when she started walking again. "And I gotta tell you, you do a damn good job of it, too. Hell only knows what kind of shit I'd be into, if I didn't have you to pull my ass out of the fire… Damn if you don't love doing it too," He added, just a bit too knowingly, "You broads, you love trying to fix screw-ups like me. What the hell would you do, if I was some kind of lame wanna-be like your little Vinny?"

Lydia cast him an exasperated glance, hoping to herself all the while that what she was about to say was true. "I'm not in this to 'fix' you, Beej. I don't hang around with you for the sole sake of bailing you out, or because you're some bad boy…" He laughed shortly, interrupting her, and she frowned, finishing anyway. "In case you haven't noticed, we cause trouble _together_, Beej."

"Oh, ooh, yeah…" He cocked his finger at her, looking smug as hell, "You are such the fucking _rebel_, babes. Seriously. I don't know how they haven't hauled your ass off yet!" A pause, then, sort of matter-of-factly, "'Cept maybe for no one but me _knowing_ the shit you pull…"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Point taken, Beej… I'm not you, okay?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders without warning, twisted her around, and pinned her arms neatly around her middle, hissing in her ear with a low cackle, "Then you admit it, babes! You love me because I'm _bad_…"

Sighing, Lydia dropped back against his chest, and rolled her head up to meet his gaze, unable to resist the good mood that came over her whenever the poltergeist was around… No matter how much trouble he caused. "I think I've said those words enough times over the last few days." She pointed out dryly, making Beetlejuice snort, and release her, clearly unimpressed with her big weighty confession of an hour or so before.

"Still say the little snot ain't worth it… Hell if I know what you broads see in guys like him!" He licked his hand, smoothed back his hair, and gave her his cockiest grin, green eyes dazzling in that utterly inhuman way they had. "Admit it, babes. I'm a shit-load more man than that whining little prince-ling will ever be! _You_ know you want me."

Lydia smirked, figuring she should play along. "Well," She admitted, as honestly as possible while wearing that expression, "I sure don't know what the hell I'd do without you, that's for sure."

"You see there?" Beetlejuice dropped out of his pose, well aware she was being a smart-ass… And also looking pleased, despite it. "Ghost with _the_ most! Don't you forget it! Now, about this whole… '_love_' thing… I mean, really, how serious is it? Is it like- 'Hey, I love butter-beetles!' Or is it all… You know, 'I'd _love _to take that slinky little number off you…'"

"Note to self… Talking to Beej about love would be time better spent talking to him about sleazy dance clubs." Lydia mused, passing a tolerant glance at him, and noting how utterly unstrange he seemed to her, after all this time together. Like the rest of the world was what she just didn't get. "Speaking of which, I saw you for like two minutes yesterday, tops. Where were you off sleazing around?"

"Eh. Here and there. Had to pick something up." He paused, started rummaging through his pockets, and pulled out a small, badly beat-up blue box, wrapped in what looked like a toilet paper ribbon. "So, what… You think I'm that big an idiot, or something?"

Lydia just glanced at him, not sure what he was talking about. "You're not making any sense again." She informed him in an off-hand manner, pretty sure that he actually _was _making sense, in his own bizarre little way. "What'd you have to pick up?"

It was Beetlejuice's turn to look exasperated. "Hell babes… You only turn sixteen once, even a guy like me knows what that kind of thing means to a chick!" He grabbed her hand, set the box securely in her palm, while all she could do was stare, and frowned, looking impatient. "So what the hell? You gonna open it, or what?"

He'd… gotten her a birthday present? "Shit." She murmured eloquently, feeling the small weight in her hand, and wondering what the hell bizarre universe she'd just stepped into. "This is some kind of trick, right? I'm gonna open it, and this hella long springy thing's gonna jump out at me…" He made a small, disgusted sound, and she shook her head. "Seriously?" Already she was getting excited… Who knew what Beetlejuice figured was a good sweet sixteen gift? "I mean, this isn't going to be a pair of red panties, or something…"

"Hell, if that's what you want, babes…" He grinned, making a grab for the box, which she quickly yanked out of reach. "Shit Lyds, you'd think I never gave you a present before!"

"You haven't." She reminded him flatly, poking at the box experimentally. "Name one gift you've given me."

The poltergeist frowned, looking at her a bit like she was suddenly acting like an unappreciative brat. "The hell?" He muttered, clearly annoyed. "I gave you that damn ring, didn't I?" His gaze dropped briefly to her chest, lingered for just a breath too long, then flicked away, with an affected disinterest. "Kids these days, give them a fucking _ring_, and it's still not good enough."

"Hmm. Well, it's not that I don't _like_ it," She denied, tugging on the string that pulled the shiny golden thing into view, and cupping it fondly in her hand, "I mean, if it wasn't for this thing, I never would have met you! It's just kinda the thought that counts, and I don't think it meant shit to you."

"Yeah?" He turned those blazing green eyes back at her, glinting with challenge. "And how the hell would you know what it meant?" The two continued to face off, Lydia not sure what the heck to make of the poltergeist's weird mood, only for him to suddenly shift moods, again, and note with impatience, "So, you gonna open the damn thing, or what?"

"Huh." She shook her head, regarded the small, dirty box with a renewal of her former interest, then just sort of pulled it open, shredding the toilet paper ribbon, which was after all what it seemed to be. Whatever was inside was all coiled up… At first glance, it looked a bit like a snake. Carefully drawing it out between thumb and forefinger, figuring she could at least trust the guy not to give her something dangerous, she examined it in the light…

It was what seemed to be a length of braided black leather, nothing particularly strange or impressive, considering who it came from. It was very soft leather, true, and the braid was a fancy design, and it had a bit of loop on one end… "Okay," She admitted, after a moment's consideration, "So, I'm not sure exactly what this is. Give me a hint?"

With a grunt, Beetlejuice grabbed her hand, plucked the twisted leather from it, and pried her other fingers open, freeing the ring she was still holding in her palm. With a solid yank, he snapped the shoestring that held it in place, before she could protest, and slid the circlet down the dark length of his gift.

"_Ta-fricking-da_." He muttered under his breath, like he figured, now that she hadn't immediately known what it was, she wouldn't be impressed. "Figured you'd like that better than some shiny bit of shit… Hell knows we can't _all_ be artistic like your little prince-ling…"

"Will you stop with this jealous shit?" Lydia growled, snagging the gift back from his hand… Only to fail, as the poltergeist refused to let it go. "Beej, come on. I like it, okay? What's the deal?" He just continued to stare at her, frowning, fingers wound tightly in the leather. "What, _you_ wanna put it on? Fine." She turned her back on him, deliberately, and pulled her hair up, making the soft strands fall over her forearms. She glanced at him over her shoulder, challengingly. "Well?"

Beetlejuice smirked, and made a show of laying the piece of jewelry tenderly around her throat, taking his time as he did it up in the back, his finger's cold as, well, death, on the back of her neck. She shivered, she couldn't help it. It was _weird_.

Then he stepped back, and looked her over approvingly, tugging at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Okay, babes." He agreed, after a moment's 'careful thought,' "Guess that'll do." He waited while she played with the ring between thumb and forefinger, then unexpectedly, pushed a mirror into her face, no doubt claimed from the depths of one of his many pockets. "Take a look."

The thing was, she didn't know what she was supposed to be looking at… She'd already seen the necklace, she didn't expect it to look any different _on_ her. And it didn't. "It's perfect, Beej." She assured him honestly, already reflecting that he was right, and that some chain would just feel weird against her skin, after all this time. "So what inspired it?"

"Dunno…" He drawled, stepping back, while the mirror disappeared back to wherever it had come from… Not his pockets after all, "Something about not wanting to hear any more shit excuses about why you're not wearing your ring, I guess." He smiled, just a little nastily. "I guarantee you babes, you're gonna have to put some effort into breaking that thing, if you wanna 'misplace' it again."

Lydia flushed, embarrassed more than anything. "Yeah, yeah… So I can't lie for shit, where you're concerned." She muttered, unconsciously tucking the cold metal into her palm again. "What's the big deal? It was just for a little while…"

"Hmm… Dunno." He said again, his eyes just a little more intense, though he wasn't quite looking at her. "If it wasn't a big deal, why the hell'd you lie in the first place?" A silence followed this, as she tried to find an answer, and failed. "Look, Lyds, you wanna take it off someday, that's up to you. No big shit. Ain't like we're really fucking engaged, anyway. Just don't act like you gotta fucking lie about it… 'Cause you feel like you gotta lie about it, you probably shouldn't do it. Get me?"

The thing was, he was right, and she knew damn well he was right… And it kind of pissed her off a little, because she would have been happier all around, if he'd never caught her in the damn lie to begin with. "Right. Whatever." She agreed, frowning. "So what does that say about all the shit I'm lying to my parents about, then?"

"Eh, screw 'em." Beetlejuice looped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her off to one side, pushing their little stroll to continue. "I gotta tell you babes, I don't give a fuck what you do to the rest of the world… Just don't try lying to me, 'cause I gotta tell you, you're shitty at it." And he gave her a big, crooked grin, like he'd gotten all the serious crap out of his system, and added, "Seriously. How many times I gotta tell you, babes? You can't bull-shit a bull-shitter."

"Graduated top of your class, I'm sure…" She agreed with a murmur, examining her present again, now that their little confrontation seemed to be over, and deciding that it was actually pretty perfect for its purpose… Kind of a Celtic knot-work to it, and black, and light against her skin. "Seriously, I like this, Beej. Kinda fancy, but not all, dolled up. You know?"

"Yup." He agreed, matter-of-factly, sounding pretty satisfied with himself. "Who knows you better than me, babes?"

"Probably no one…" She admitted under her breath, a fact that was actually a little disturbing to linger on for any real length of time, so she pushed it away, pretended for a moment that walking along the street with a deranged six hundred year old poltergeist was perfectly normal, and noted, in an aside, "Do you have any hard candies left? In the bottom of your pocket or something? I still want butterscotch…"

"Hell only knows what's in the bottom of these pockets, babes…" He muttered, shoving a hand in anyway, and fishing around a bit, before coming up with something stripy and green. "This do? I swear to god Lyds, you gotta stop making me carry all this crap, or I'm gonna fucking-"

She never actually got to hear what he was going to do, because at that moment, the poltergeist went very still, his eyes fixed off to the side with a sudden intensity that made the hairs tickle on the back of her neck. "Well, fuck." He grunted, so utterly matter-of-factly that even as Lydia turned to follow his line of sight, she already knew she wouldn't like what she saw. The last thing she expected to see though-

Was her dad. Watching them, like he'd been doing so for several minutes now, an absolutely unreadable expression on his face. Beetlejuice quickly tugged his cap down, but they both knew it was a moot point… They'd been found out. By her _father_. Her distasteful-of-the-dead _father_.

"Fuck." Lydia whispered under her breath, certain in that moment that her heart had stopped completely inside her, and for that instant at least, she was as dead as the poltergeist beside her. "Oh fuck. _Ohfuck-ohfuck-ohfuck…_!" And then her voice kind of died too, and they just sort of stared at each other across the street, neither one making any obvious first move.

Then the light changed, and Edmond started across the street, frowning, but not in any apparent hurry to reach his daughter. Once or twice he did glance around, as if to check to see if anyone else was really seeing this too… And well, Beetlejuice always drew stares. So it had to be pretty clear to him that at least a few of the rules he knew about were being rewritten here. That is, if he even remembered the poltergeist… Otherwise some completely different problems were about to go down.

Her father stopped in front of them, and for once, Beetlejuice didn't seem ready for a snappy approach… For about three seconds. Then he tipped his hat, grinned like nothing was wrong in the world, and noted nonchalantly, "Mr. D, long time no see. Out here walking with the kid, as you can see… How's the little woman?"

Something seemed to struggle around her father's mouth briefly, and then at last, he just nodded, shortly. "She seems happier when you're not pinning her down. Just not by much." Beetlejuice snorted, clearly deciding he liked the answer, as Edmond turned to Lydia, and asked bluntly, "How long, Lydia?"

"Um… About _that _long?" Lydia admitted, realizing only slowly that Beetlejuice's arm was still around her shoulders. Carefully she removed said arm, feeling a bit like she was standing in a lineup, waiting for guilt to be cast. "Seriously dad, it's so not what it looks like…"

Beetlejuice snagged her by the hand, pulled her close to his side, and grinned, asking in a low, conspiratorial voice, "So tell me the truth Chuck, will you be coming to the wedding? 'Cause well, we got kind of a short list, want to make it a real personal ceremony-"

Too stunned at first to interrupt, Lydia finally managed a sound of protest, and shoved Beetlejuice away, where the poltergeist quickly busied himself with straightening his permanently wrinkled suit. "It is _not_ what it looks like!" She denied again, a little more loudly. "We're just friends!"

The poltergeist pursed his mouth in thought, clearly for show. "Uh… Friends with benefits though, right babes?"

Lydia turned on him, lips set into a tight line. "Beej? You know how I told you before that you have a habit of making a bad situation much, _much_ worse?" He just sort of smirked, not actually acknowledging the accusation, so she barreled ahead. "Well, you're doing it _now_. Please stop."

"Eh, whatever, Lyds." He shot her a deceptively unconcerned glance. "You're just ashamed of me. I know how it is. Not like I'm the kind of guy you can bring home, or some shit…" Which of course, left Lydia denying _this_ in turn, in frustration, and at least for the moment, completely forgetting the oncoming confrontation with her father.

Which naturally had been the point all along. Beetlejuice turned to the man with a grin, bodily moving the girl to the side before she could finish what she was saying, which momentarily baffled her, and approaching her father head on. "I gotta say Chuck, you're taking this real well… Hell, you don't even look surprised! I gotta tell you, if I were you, and I saw Lyds walking down the street with _me_? I'd be damned surprised!"

Lydia tried to interrupt her way back into the conversation, at which Beetlejuice made a dismissive motion, and a shushing sound, noting, "Not now, babes. The big kids are talking." The goth girl responded to this cutting condescension the way she usually did… She grabbed him by his hat, and started hitting him with it, very ready for some venting.

"Hey, what the hell?" He protested, quickly driven back by her feeble beatings. "Come on Lyds, just trying to work things out here- _Will you cut that the hell out_?" He managed to retrieve his hat from her fast little hands, and scowled at her, brushing it off, and fighting back a grin. Count on Lyds not to take _shit _from him…

The kid turned back to her father, a little out of breath, and paused, to notice he hadn't so much as budged during this little exchange. "He's right," She noted aloud, a little uneasy over this fact, "You _don't_ look surprised."

"At this point, I don't think much could surprise me, Lydia." He informed her, a little tiredly, but very matter-of-fact. "What's next, honestly? I've got this pretty big sense that this is just the start… Did you plan on going into details, or should I just assume that everything I know about your life is a lie?"

Starting to deny it, Lydia broke off before she could add one more lie to the list, bit her lip, and noted quietly, "Uh, that last one, I guess…" And with that, she waited for him to say something, only he didn't. And Beetlejuice was no longer adding shit to the conversation. "So, you're going to tell everyone, aren't you?"

Edmond frowned, ran his hand over the top of his head absently, and noted aloud, "God knows I should. But what the hell does god have to do with my life these days?" His gaze moved past her, to the poltergeist, who wriggled his fingers at the man, in a reminder that he was still there. "You do realize that if you've ever hurt my daughter… I _will _find a way to kill the dead."

"Shit," Beetlejuice muttered, clearly not impressed, "Considering that Lyds there is about the only one I wouldn't break in half and use as sandworm bait to save my own ass, I don't think we got a problem _there_, Chucky." He paused, then added, with a cocky little grin, "But you're impressed, right? The kid's damn good at keeping shit to herself… Anyone else, you would have found out _years_ ago."

Personally, Lydia thought it was best if the man didn't dwell on that for too long… "So, you're _not_ going to tell?" She pressed, grasping desperately to the fact that, as yet, he hadn't actually said he _was_. "Because, um…" And here her skillful tongue failed her, and she was just left looking at her father helplessly, all too aware of how much hell he could raise in her life now. "Please don't." She managed at last, softly. "Beej is my best friend. I can't lose him." And there it was, finally. She was telling her dad the truth.

Edmond stared at her for a long moment, then closed his eyes, turned away, and looked briefly like he was considering walking away then and there, and pretending that none of this had ever happened. "I don't like this, Lydia." He told her at last, softly, but coldly. "I don't trust him, and I don't think you know half of what he's capable of-" And oddly enough, there he stopped, before noting quietly, "But god knows I'd love to have something to hang over their heads, after-" And again, this was all he said.

Lydia didn't press him, she personally didn't care what his reasons were, revenge, satisfaction, anger, even hate… She just needed him to keep his mouth shut about Beetlejuice, and he could pick any rationalizing he liked. So she stood there, waiting quietly, aware of Beetlejuice's presence behind her, also oddly silent. Watching, she was certain. Waiting to turn this to his advantage.

"Well hell," The poltergeist prompted suddenly, no longer smiling, as something subtly shifted in his demeanor, "It ain't like you owe those Maitland chumps shit, now is it?" And at first, this was all he said, as he let his words sink in a little, and her father frowned, clearly trying not to find logic in the words of a man who'd been convincing his daughter to lie to him for _years_… "But there is that little wife of yours to think about though, right? I mean, things are good between you two and everything, you don't want to screw _that_ up…"

Her father lifted his head, the look in his eyes just a little too aware. "And exactly how long _have_ you been hanging over our every conversation, then?" He demanded coldly, for one moment making it look like the poltergeist's plan was about to backfire… And then looking away, not waiting for an answer, and gazing off down the street, again like he suddenly wished he were anywhere else.

"You're right though." He said at last, very quietly. He didn't elaborate on just what exactly Beetlejuice was right about, but the both of them knew, the living girl and the dead man, that something had just shifted in their favor. "Besides, my job is knowing what's going on in my daughter's life. Not making sure the rest of the world does."

Lydia was certain there was something wrong with this, that somehow, her father was saying something with this decision that she wasn't hearing… But hell if she was going to argue with it. The only thing that mattered, same as before, was keeping her best friend. "So, you probably don't want me to go into details, right?" She pressed on, well aware she was pushing it, but figuring that one victory might mean this was her best chance to push things. "I mean, a lot of it involves the dead… And legal stuff about death… And details I've learned about the afterlife…"

"No." Her father interrupted, flatly. "I don't want to know. I think we've established that." He touched his temple, briefly, clearly struggling with some internal demon, before smiling, utterly humorlessly. "All things considered, I'm going to tell myself that it could be worse, and move on. At this point, I don't think there's a damn thing I could do to stop you anyway. I just… want to know you're safe."

And he lifted his eyes, and met his daughter's, and smiled, again. "You _are _safe, Lydia… Aren't you?" It wasn't a question she immediately knew how to answer though. Was she safe? Beetlejuice protected her, Vincent protected her, she protected her own damn self… But sometimes things still got out of control, and-

Well, it would probably be best if her father didn't know about all that. "Yeah," She agreed softly, "I'm safe, dad. Beej takes care of me."

Edmond nodded, and turned his attention back to Beetlejuice. "See that you do." He said simply.

That said though, it seemed like the conversation should end now, but so far, he wasn't walking away. He just sort of stood there, looking serious, and a bit absent, like he was turning things over in his head, and wasn't even really aware that the two of them were there.

Beetlejuice nudged Lydia, and when she glanced at him, hooked a thumb over his shoulder, and grunted, clearly suggesting they make their escape. The girl gave her father one last helpless look, not sure herself why she wasn't happier with the arrangement that had just been 'made,' and put up no fight when, impatient, the poltergeist grabbed her by the hand, and physically dragged her away, leaving the living man there, without a word.

And Edmond watched them go, weighing the unwiseness of what he'd just agreed to. Hell only knew what those two got into, with no one around to say they shouldn't… And he wasn't about to trust that Juno woman to the task, not after she'd messed up once already. He'd _known_ she was too into this death stuff… But in the end, it was too late to do anything about that, wasn't it?

"The fact is," He murmured aloud to himself, "It's too late for a lot of things." He blinked, took in his surroundings slowly, and with a small frown, deliberately set off in a different direction from his daughter. Lydia had been hanging around the guy this long, and he hadn't hurt her. That had to count for something. More important to him, was what _he_ wasn't losing, by agreeing to keep her secret. After the night before, he was all too aware how easily everything he had in life could just, slip away…

But this gave him an edge. He hated to think about it that way, but it did. Adam and Barb? He wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with them anymore. Found it kind of hard to believe now that he ever had. And Olivia?

_Damn, Liv…_ He'd seen it in her eyes, when he was looking for some sort of support, seen as she turned away from him, in a way far more final than simply refusing to speak up. There in those eyes he'd fallen in love with. His home, his wife, his friends… They were all slipping through his fingers.

He'd be damned if he lost Lydia too. Now Vincent, he was a lost cause, but Beetlejuice? _Beetlejuice… _That he could use. And all he had to do was keep a secret. Well hell, where did she think she'd learned how to keep them so well? Besides, it wasn't like any of them could keep her from doing whatever the heck she wanted anyway, at this point… Especially with someone like that on her side, if even half what he'd heard about the ghost was true.

True, he didn't like it. He didn't like not having any control over his daughter's life. Hated pretty much just giving up on having any say in it at all. But at this point, he'd settle for still being part of it. That, he wasn't giving up without a fight.

"Best friend…" He murmured to himself, still lost in thought as he moved slowly down the sidewalk, watching all the self-involved hurryings of the people passing by. "Let's see if that trumps boyfriend then…"

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So... This whole thing. Like maybe one thousand words short of one _hundred _thousand.

I have no idea why I find that fitting.

See you... soon?


End file.
